


When In Brome

by Chash



Series: Broman Holiday [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Octavia is the one who tells Clarke about "Untitled Gladiator Project," because she thinks Bellamy wants to be on it, and also thinks Clarke is the one who will be able to convince him to do it. Plus, it turns out Clarke actually needs to beinvolved, because all of the gladiators are required to have girlfriends with them, and, honestly, the more she hears about it, the more of a mess it seems like.On the other hand, it sounds kind of hilarious, and definitely right up Bellamy's alley, so there's probably no harm in trying out. It might be fun.





	1. Episode 0

**Author's Note:**

> I recently found out there was a short-lived British reality TV show called [Bromans](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bromans), and as soon as I found this out, I knew I had to make it into an AU. For the record, it is AMAZING and Brit and I watched the whole thing and got weirdly invested in it, please google "bromans streaming" and enjoy. I know it's April Fool's Day but that is a coincidence this is all 100% real and I love it.
> 
> And this is gonna be a bunch of chapters! Gonna try to do one per episode so it should end up being about ten chapters? But we'll see how it shakes out.

“Can you help me trick my brother into something?”

Clarke frowns at Octavia. She likes Bellamy’s sister, mostly—it’s hard to like Bellamy and not like her, given how important she is to him—but she doesn’t totally trust her. The first time she asked for Clarke’s help with a Bellamy project, she claimed it was a surprise birthday party, when really she’d actually just wanted Clarke to get him out of the house so she could make out with her boyfriend in peace. It’s been a few years and Octavia has definitely matured, but Clarke’s still wary. 

“Trick him into what?”

“There’s this new Roman-themed reality show Lincoln is working on? It sounds really fun and I know Bell would have a blast on it, but he’d never sign up on his own.” She pauses, clearly weighing her options, and then adds, “He actually _can’t_ sign up on his own. He needs a girlfriend. But I bet you could talk him into it, if you said you wanted to do it.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your brother’s girlfriend on your boyfriend’s reality show?” Clarke asks. On the one hand, it’s ridiculous, but on the other, she can’t imagine Octavia is making it up. If she wanted to tell a lie, she would have told a better one. "Isn't that an ethics violation or something? For Lincoln?"

“The producers don't care, as long as you're good TV. Seriously, I think you guys would have fun! He needs to relax. Just get Bell to take a look at the application form, okay? That’s all I ask.”

It really isn’t much of a request. There’s a process for getting cast on a reality show; unless the whole thing is an elaborate hoax, Octavia can’t be rigging it. Clarke isn’t sure why she’s invested in this, but at the same time, it’s hard to believe she needs more of a reason than just thinking it would be funny. And Bellamy and Clarke on a Roman reality show pretending to date does sound like the kind of thing Octavia would find hilarious.

There’s no harm in just _looking_ at the application. They don’t have to agree to anything. They might not even get an interview.

“Do we apply online?” she asks, and Octavia’s grin does not fill her with confidence that she made the right choice.

“Don't worry, I’ll get you everything you need.”

*

“Your sister wants you to do Lincoln’s new reality show.”

“Pass,” says Bellamy, without looking up. He and Clarke met in college and didn’t get along for a good few months, first out of genuine animosity and then from stubbornness, but by the time he graduated, he was pretty much her best friend. He'd still been taking care of Octavia on the side back then, and it worked out that she was moving out right as Clarke was leaving and looking for a place to live. Clarke moved in with Bellamy, and three years later, she has trouble imagining living with anyone else. They just get each other.

“I think we should do it.”

As she expected, the pronoun gives him pause. “I thought she wanted me to do it, not you.”

“You’re the focus.”

Either his curiosity gets the best of him or he knows she’s not going to let this go—he closes his book with a huff and pushes his glasses up to look at her. “Okay, fine. What exactly is this show?"

“Roman gladiator competition.”

“What.” His voice is so flat it’s not even a question.

“It’s going to be goofy, but fun!” she says. “They’re doing a bunch of semi-accurate recreations of ancient buildings, you get to wear a toga and show off how secretly athletic you are.”

“And you’re involved how?”

“It’s for couples only. All gladiators need a girlfriend to support them.”

“Jesus, if there’s one competition that shouldn’t be heteronormative—“

Clarke has to smile. “Yeah, I know. But still, it sounds fun!”

“What exactly are you basing that on?”

“The premise and the website. We get to do weird shit on TV in costume. Don’t try to pretend you’re not into it.”

"It's going to be really historically inaccurate." He glances at her. "Why are you into it?"

"What's not to be into?"

"Reality TV show, weird challenges, fake dating? Take your pick."

"People already think we're dating all the time," she says, with a shrug. "It wouldn't be hard."

He looks back down at his lap, jaw working. "What do we have to do, exactly?"

"Just fill out an application. If they like us, we have an interview, and then we're on the show for--a few weeks, I think? It's not that long."

"You know they edit the shit out of this stuff, right? They'll probably make us come across as assholes."

She's thought about that, of course. Being on reality TV isn't exactly a badge of honor, and even if this is a theoretically skill-based competition, it's not like _Project Runway_ or something. It's definitely the television equivalent of junk food.

"That's why we do it together," she says. "I have your back, you have mine, right? We can make sure we don't say anything we're going to regret."

"We can't. But if you want to, I'm in."

"Really?"

He sighs, long and deep, but there's a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, this reluctant amusement that means he's secretly glad she's giving him the excuse to do this. Bellamy can be a little vain, a little too conscious of how he comes across, trying to maintain an image that doesn't really fit him. Sometimes he needs help letting himself goof off.

"It can't be that bad, right?"

"You jinxed it," she teases. "It's going to suck now."

"We probably won't even get cast. But there's no harm in trying, I guess."

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

*

"So, this is--stupid, right?"

She and Bellamy made it through to the in-person interview with the producers, and she thinks it went well. Their fake dating history wasn't hard to come up with--college friends turned roommates turned lovers is easy to sell--and they have a natural, easy chemistry that she knows would be appealing to audiences. Bellamy got to talk about how he learned about ancient Rome at his mother's knee, how he named his sister Octavia. On a regular reality show, the backstory would be a slam dunk, but the producers actually looked a little uncomfortable when he brought it up, like that level of earnestness would not be welcome on _Untitled Gladiator Project_.

"You weren't really expecting it to be serious, were you?"

"No, but--I think it's going to be a mess."

"A fun mess. It's definitely going to be stupid and ridiculous, but we knew that. Okay," she grants, "it's going to be even more stupid and ridiculous than I thought, but that's cool, right?"

"Sure," he says, not sounding remotely convinced, and when they get the actual paperwork they're supposed to sign to agree to be on the show, Clarke has to admit she's a little worried too.

Lincoln, on the other hand, is unconcerned.

"This is all fairly standard," he says. They're at dinner with him and Octavia so he can give them some dirt, except that it's Lincoln, and Lincoln isn't really the gossiping type. "Reality TV shows are unpredictable, so they like to cover their bases."

"Nudity?" asks Bellamy.

"You're filmed at all times. They want to be able to use footage that might happen at--inopportune moments."

"Creepy," he mutters, and Lincoln shrugs.

"It's a deal breaker for some people. I wouldn't blame you if it was one for you too."

"What are you doing on the show exactly?" Clarke asks. She's actually closer to Lincoln than she is to Octavia, as strange as that is. He does set design in addition to acting, and he and Clarke always have art things to talk about. When she and Bellamy hang out with Octavia, the Blakes tend to find something to argue about while Clarke and Lincoln chat on their own. It's not hard to tell he's not telling them everything, but he's also an actor under contract. He's probably not actually allowed to tell them.

"I'm the trainer," he says. "I'll be supervising the physical challenges."

"As opposed to the mental challenges?" Bellamy asks, glaring. "What other kinds of challenges are there?"

"The women's challenges. I assume they're also somewhat physical, but not my responsibility."

Clarke taps her jaw, studying him. "Okay, be honest: do you think we should do this?"

If Lincoln has a fatal flaw, it's his honestly. He _can_ lie, Clarke knows, but he doesn't like to, and he doesn't like hurting people either. Unlike Octavia, he's an actual trustworthy source of information.

"I think it's up to you. I don't think you'll regret it if you do, but I also don't think you'll regret it if you don't. I'm looking forward to it, and I think it's going to be fun. You'd probably have fun too."

"They don't know how to have fun," says Octavia.

"This was your idea," Bellamy shoots back.

"Yeah, I'm hoping you're going to learn. You need to loosen up."

"And reality TV is the way to do it?" he asks.

Octavia shrugs. "Worth a try. Come on, you've been waiting your whole life for this, Bell. Someone's going to let you pretend you're in the Roman empire. I know how many times you've seen _Gladiator_. Remember that colosseum you built out of sofa cushions?"

"Yeah, that was because you wanted to pretend to be a lion and try to eat me."

"And you didn't let me! You could totally win this."

Lincoln leans in, murmuring to Clarke. "I do think it's going to be fun."

"Fun for you or fun for us?"

"More fun for me," he admits. "I don't have to do any of the hard work. But still fun for you."

"How big a thing is the dating? Is that going to be an issue?"

"For you and Bellamy? I doubt it. I'm not worried you'll slip up."

Clarke turns her attention back to Bellamy, studying him as he listens to his sister scold him with an expression of fond amusement. He catches her eye and smiles, and she smiles back, reflexive.

"Okay. We're probably in."

Lincoln smiles too. "I was hoping you would be."

*

They spend the plane ride to the show ironing out their dating backstory, which still isn’t hard. They had the broad outline of it for the interview, and they spend plenty of time together, so most of what they're saying is even true. The timeline is based in reality—they’ve both been single for over a year, and it’s easy to just pretend that their friendship turned to romance in that time. If she’s honest, Clarke has had moments of wondering if it really would go that way. But after six years, she knows better than to get her hopes up. The reality-show fake-dating thing is just a fluke. Normal, friend stuff.

Anyone would do it.

It's not until the flight attendant announces they've begun their descent that Bellamy clears his throat and says, "One other thing."

"What?"

"Uh--physical stuff."

"We're on TV," she teases. "How physical can we be?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought, but--there's actually a lot. We're going to be in competitions," he clarifies. "It would be weird if we didn't--hug and kiss and stuff. To celebrate. And we're probably going to be, uh--we're going to be together all the fucking time. We're not having sex, but--"

"I don't mind hugging and kissing," she says. "It's not like we'd really make out on TV or anything, that's weird. But just--" She leans in, and when he turns his head for her, she presses her mouth against his. 

Clarke's kissed enough guys that it's not particularly novel. There's the usual roughness of lips and slight rasp of stubble, the warmth of another person that she hasn't felt for a while. But it's still obviously _Bellamy_ ; she can smell him, even taste him a little, and when his hand cradles her jaw, it's definitely _his_ hand, warm and familiar.

For a chaste, quick kiss, it's kind of a lot to deal with. Her heart is still racing when she pulls back.

"We can do that, right?" she asks.

He clears his throat, a slight flush on his neck. "Yeah, no problem."

"We can't if you're like _that_ ," she teases. "Come on, try again. More natural."

"I _was_ natural."

He doesn't give her a chance to argue; he kisses her again, firmer, more confident, and Clarke does her best to respond in kind. It's a better kiss, and she doesn't know if it looks more natural, but it certainly feels that way.

"It'll be easier when we don't have an armrest between us," Bellamy murmurs, and she laughs.

"Yeah. I don't think it's going to be that hard."

"No?"

"We know how dating works. It's just dating each other. Just--remember to kiss me sometimes."

"I think I can handle that." As if to prove the point, he leans in and does it _again_ , and by the time they're off the plane, Clarke's lips are tingling a little, and her pulse is fluttering.

She really could get used to that.

*

They're filming in Georgia because of some kind of tax break, and the show is sending a driver to pick them up and take them to wherever they're staying for however long they're here. Clarke takes Bellamy's hand as they walk, just to get a feel for that, and all he does is squeeze her fingers in approval.

It's really not that hard.

"Boyfriend mode," she murmurs. "From now on, we're dating."

"Got it." He squeezes her hand again. "Thanks for doing this with me."

"It was my idea. I had to talk you into it."

"Yeah, but--come on, you know I'm excited."

"You can't wait to be the named best gladiator."

"And you can't wait to be best gladiator's girlfriend. That's still shitty, by the way. Women can be gladiators too. It doesn't have to be this--"

"Heteronormative? Maybe if you win you get an audience with the emperor and you can make an impassioned plea for queer fighters."

"That's probably what would happen, yeah. I'm going to use all my talking heads to talk about how non-straight every classical civilization was."

She presses her lips to his shoulder, trying to make it feel natural. "That's what they get for casting you."

"That's what they get, yeah."

The driver's already there when they make it to the baggage claim. They weren't told to bring much--according to the documentation they received, "period-appropriate" clothing will be provided, and Bellamy's already planning to nitpick their entire wardrobe--so they don't have anything except carry-on, and they can just go straight to the car. It's a bit of a drive, but they fill up the time wondering what's waiting for them and how it might be.

"Fake," he says. "Honestly, I'm most interested to see how the TV cut looks. I want to see how many takes we do of stuff and which ones they use. And how they edit us, honestly."

Clarke has to smile. "You're such a nerd. And you're definitely more interested in how historically accurate everything is."

"Equally interested."

She smiles. "Fine, equally interested. What do you think they're going to have us do first?"

Of course, Bellamy has a lot of ideas about what kind of authentic Roman activities they might partake in, and Clarke is happy to tease him about keeping his expectations low, and she thinks this would probably be good TV, just as it is. They play off each other well.

So, of course, when they get to the lot, the first thing that happens is that they're separated.

"We'll be filming the gladiators and the girlfriends in different groups for the entrances," one of the producers explains. "You'll see each other again soon, but we will have you in separate areas until you're on camera."

Bellamy looks a little spooked, and Clarke pecks him on the cheek. "You'll be fine. You get to make friends will all the other gladiators."

"Great." He offers her a crooked smile. "See you on the other side?"

"Play nice."

"I'm more worried about you there. You don't bond well."

"Shut up."

The producers hustle them apart, and Clarke gets one final glance over her shoulder before he's gone, and she's alone on the set of the a still untitled gladiator project.

It'll be fun.

"There are seven other couples," her producer explains. Her name is Anya, and she gives off more competence vibes than anyone else Clarke has ever met. If she wasn't supposed to be Bellamy's girlfriend, she'd definitely be trying to get her number. "You'll only be meeting the women right now. We'll take you over to the site, get some reaction shots for the space, but we don't care about documenting you meeting the other girlfriends. Once you're there, you'll be provided with clothing and taken to meet your boyfriend and the rest of the gladiators. We'll have the first task for you there."

"Okay."

"If you ever feel faint or ill, just tell someone. If you need food or water, let us know. This isn't _Survivor_ , we aren't expecting you to fend for yourselves. If someone asks you to say something again, just do it. Try to ignore the cameras unless you're in an interview. We don't want you looking at the lenses. You haven't acted before?"

"No."

"But you know Lincoln."

They've confirmed that at every single step of the interview process, but maybe this will be the last time. "He's dating Bellamy's sister, yeah. She's the one who told us about the show."

"He'll introduce himself once you're on site. On camera, you will not call him Lincoln, and you will not acknowledge your personal relationship. He's here to play a role, and knowing you is not a part of that role."

"I know."

"Any other questions?"

"Not right now, but probably later."

Anya nods, stops at the door of a trailer. "You'll have makeup done here, and microphones. The cameras won't be on you until we get you to the site. The van will be here in an hour, and it's a twenty-minute drive to the site. Feel free to socialize and use your phone for now, but you won't be allowed to have it again until you leave the show."

"Got it. Thanks for the help."

Anya shrugs and moves on, and Clarke is left to make her way into the makeup trailer alone. There's another woman already in one of the chairs, a pretty brunette with her eyes closed as her mascara is applied. There are three other women who have apparently already finished with their makeup and are sitting off on couches to the side, playing on their phones. Clarke gives an awkward wave when they look up, but she's ushered into the makeup chair before she can try for introductions.

"Clarke, right?" asks the makeup girl.

"Yeah."

"Great, I'm Harper, and this is Luna, we'll be taking care of your hair and makeup while you're on the show. That's Roma," she adds, nodding to the woman in the chair. "And Raven, Mel, and Bree. Where are you from?"

Harper is easy to talk to, and they chat as Clarke gets camera ready. She's not used to doing this much makeup, but Harper is good at her job, and when they're done, Clarke feels like she looks like herself, just with the details highlighted for the camera. She's hustled over to the waiting area, sits down between Raven and Bree and pulls out her own phone.

 **Me** : Done with makeup  
What are you doing?

 **Bellamy** : Socializing  
This guy Roan is already talking about how great it is that they didn't wear clothes in ancient Rome

 **Me** : Are you correcting him?

 **Bellamy** : He's actually pretty informed about the whole thing  
At least the naked parts

 **Me** : So he's your favorite?

 **Bellamy** : So far, anyway  
How are the women?

 **Me** : Fine  
We're mostly just on our phones  
I assume I'll get to know them later  
Any idea what we're going to do?

 **Bellamy** : Other than pretend we don't know Lincoln?  
Not really  
Just that you'd come back for your first challenge after we'd gotten settled

 **Me** : We knew it was going to be weird

 **Bellamy** : We did  
Last guy just got here

The last woman follows soon after, a cute black girl named Gaia, and a few minutes later Anya is back for another pep talk. It's all the information Clarke already got from her, but she's getting the impression that this is going to be one of those places where there's a lot of repetition to make sure everyone gets it. If Anya could just give them regular quizzes, it feels like she would.

Once that's over with, though, she hustles them onto the van, and they're on their way. Clarke will admit that she's just a little excited. She's never done anything like this before. It feels irresponsible and a little reckless, but in a fun way.

Teenage rebellion, about a decade late.

"Clarke, right?" her seatmate asks.

"Yeah. Raven?"

"Yup." She offers her hand, and Clarke shakes. "So, who's into this?" Clarke cocks her head, and Raven clarifies, "You or your boyfriend?"

"Kind of both of us, I guess? I mean, he loves ancient Roman stuff, but he really wasn't into the reality TV thing. I had to talk him into it. What about you?"

"Roan just likes being naked and fighting people," she says. "I'm going along with it because it sounds like a fucking mess. And he's going to be shirtless most of the time."

That's a potential plus. "You think?"

"Definitely. This is going to be some female-gaze shit."

They trade basic demographic information as they go, and Clarke discovers that Raven is twenty-six and works in tech, doing stuff with machines Clarke can't even comprehend. She seems to have the same basic attitude to the entire enterprise Clarke does, which is that it's ridiculous, but she still wants to win, because she's never met a competition she doesn't like. So they're probably going to be friends, except when there are challenges happening, at which point friendship, as a concept, will cease to exist.

So that's going to be fun.

"Wow," Raven says, as they come to a stop, and Clarke follows her gaze out the window, to the walled set that they're apparently going to call home. It's not the size of an actual city, of course, but it might be the size of an ancient city. They have a real _budget_ for this, and Clarke can't figure out why they think it's going to make money, but she's not _complaining_. It's working out for her so far.

"This might be a cool train wreck," she admits.

Raven snorts. "Here's hoping." The doors open and she stands and stretches. "Showtime?"

"Yeah," says Clarke. "Let's do it."


	2. Episode 1

The first thing Clarke notices when she walks onto set isn't the buildings or the extras or the production value: it's the cameras. They're everywhere, some handheld, some on dollies, some built into the surroundings. It's not as if she didn't see it coming, but the reality of being on camera _all the time_ is immediately staggering, and she's definitely not as suited to it as some of the other contestants are. She's not the type to squeal or shriek at the sight of something exciting, and while the whole setup is undeniably cool, she doesn't really feel a great sense of wonder. It's a TV show; of course they built a set. It's not a surprise.

So she might not be the most eye-catching person right away. It's fine, she can get better at it. They film some of her checking out a cool architectural feature, and her and Raven talking about some of the extras playing a game, but they're more interested in Bree and Roma gasping at everything, and Gaia's wide-eyed awe. And Clarke's actually kind of interested in that too, if she's honest. It's cute, seeing how excited everyone is. From what she can tell, it's genuine, and that goes a long way to endearing her fellow competitors to her.

Once she's decided they have enough reaction footage, Anya hustles the group to a small store so they can find clothing. It looks less like historical fashion and more like beachwear, some basic bikini-like garments in a tacky gold color and white cover-ups pretending to be togas, but she wasn't really expecting any better.

"Just like ancient times," Raven mutters, and Clarke smiles.

They're supposed to act like they're picking out their own outfits, but of course everything was made with their measurements, and they have staff on-hand to do adjustments and alterations. Clarke's is mostly fine, not really her style, but she looks cute and her boobs aren't falling out of her top, so she's counting it as a win.

Raven pauses before she strips out of her jeans, and Clarke sees it's not modesty, but care. Her left leg turns into a prosthetic at the knee, and she's making sure nothing happens as she pulls the fabric down.

Her impulse, of course, is to offer help, but Raven is an adult, and Clarke knows better. It's _her_ leg, she's the one who's used to dealing with it.

She hands over Raven's bikini bottoms once she's stripped down, and Raven smiles.

Once they're done changing, they pose for some random filler shots with the help of a wind machine until the walkie on Anya's belt crackles into life, apparently letting her know that they're ready for them to reunite with the guys.

Her instructions as they walk are straightforward but not particularly illuminating. "Your boyfriends have already been introduced to the space and outfitted for the first challenge. You'll see them, and the host, Murphy, will give an introduction to the task. We'll cut before that starts and get everything set up and take any other questions you might have. Right now, we're most interested in your reactions to seeing your boyfriends again, and we'll figure out the rest once those are done. Monroe?"

Another crew member steps up, and she and Anya get them lined up in some predetermined order to go into the colosseum. Clarke is between Raven and Maya, towards the end of the pack, so she hears the reactions from the others first, laughter and hooting that's even more enthusiastic then their initial reactions to the set.

"Holy shit," Raven breathes, and suddenly Clarke's in the sunlight, looking at a line of eight naked guys.

It probably shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is, but Clarke had sort of thought whatever nudity existed would be accidental, or at least optional. But this is all eight of their contestants lined up and covering themselves as best as they can, expressions varying from sheepish to proud, faces flushed with sun and embarrassment.

Her eyes find Bellamy without her brain having to wonder where he is, the most natural thing in the word. He’s looking down at his feet, but his tangle of dark curls is instantly recognizable. Considering how long she's lived with him, Clarke's actually shocked to realized she's never managed to see Bellamy naked before, but somehow, this is the first time. He tends to wear a minimum of a t-shirt and boxer shorts in the public parts of their apartment, and she leaves before he does in the morning, so she doesn’t often see him going to and from the shower. She knew before that he was fairly muscular, that he doesn't have tattoos and does have freckles, but it’s different seeing it all at once like this, all that smooth skin, his broad shoulders and too flat abs, the definition of his hipbones leading right to his big hands cupped in front of—

She jerks her gaze back up, makes herself focus on the rest of the lineup. It’s her first time seeing these guys, and she does her best to look past the nudity and assess them. They’re mostly white, aside from Bellamy and another guy she’d guess is Southeast Asian too, and mostly pretty ripped. The guy on Bellamy’s left is probably the scrawniest, but none of them are slouches. Given where Raven is looking, Clarke's pretty sure the gladiators must be in the same order the women were, and the guy with long hair and a patchwork of tattoos who’s only intermittently bothering to shield his junk from the world must be her nudist boyfriend.

“And the ladies have arrived!” says a voice, once the commotion has calmed down. It can’t be news to Bellamy, but that’s when he looks up, and Clarke can’t look away from his face. His bangs are falling over his forehead into his eyes; they had him put his contacts in, and Clarke is struck by the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s looking her over too, even though her white dress isn't really anything special.

This might have been a mistake.

“I am Iohannes Morpheus,” says same voice, and Clarke forces herself to stop staring at Bellamy and look at him instead. “And, yes, to the smartass gladiator who told me Morpheus is a Greek god, I know. It’s my fake name, and you can suck it. You try making Murphy Latin.”

Clarke's glad she's looking at Bellamy for that; his slight smirk and half shrug is all the confirmation she needs that he’s the smartass in question. Not that there was really any doubt.

“Now, as you can tell, everything about our ancient Roman experience is completely genuine—shut up, Bellamy—which is why we had to ask all these fine specimens to strip down. Gladiators start with nothing. Except, you know, love. So that’s where this challenge comes in. You're going to see if you can dig up something for them to wear. Literally.”

There’s a general murmuring of confusion, and Murphy—Clarke’s never going to remember his other names—lets them go for a moment before he holds up one hand.

“The rules are simple. In front of you is a pit of sand, divided into six parts. In each part, there is a bag of clothing buried. Your mission is to find the clothing and get it across the line before someone else takes it from you. Those of you who can count might have noticed we seem to have more gladiators than clothes, and you’re right! Two guys aren't getting anything.”

“So wait, you’re saying that we’re supposed to _want_ our boyfriends to put clothes on?” Raven asks. “Mine’s pretty happy as is.”

“Yeah, I think we’re going to have more trouble keeping his clothes on,” Murphy agrees. “But those are the rules and that’s what’s happening, so everyone—on your marks!”

In the screen version, they're obviously going to cut to the eight of them lined up and ready to go, but they first have to actually live it. Anya gives another explanation of the rules, they’re all instructed to strip down to the gold bikinis, and the producers get them lined up carefully, checking cameras and mics before Anya finally gives Murphy the okay to say, “Go!”

The thing is, some part of Clarke knows this is ridiculous. She is aware of the total absurdity of the situation, how stupid it is that she's digging for clothes for Bellamy in a sand pit as a competitive event. It’s complete and utter nonsense, but she still wants to win. She _always_ wants to win.

Raven's the first to find one of the bundles, and she manages to stay quiet and get it up and out without anyone noticing until it’s too late. Ontari’s the only one to even make an attempt; everyone else realizes it’s useless and just lets her go.

“I have to put this on?” Roan asks, dubious. Clarke can’t tell if he’s objecting to the clothing itself—some kind of odd leather skirt—or the state of being clothed, but either way Raven shuts him down fast.

“Dude, I hustled for that, the least you can do is put it on.”

He leans down and kisses her. “That’s true, and I’ll wear it with pride. Thank you.”

Clarke doesn’t get the second or third bundle either, mostly due to simple bad luck. She wasn’t close enough to do any good in the melee after they were found, and she knows better than to get involved in a losing battle.

But with only three bundles left, she has to get serious.

This bundle is buried in the sand in front of Bellamy, and she meets his eye across the pit as they wait. His hair is still all over his forehead, and she’s sure he’s dying to push it back, but he doesn’t want to move his hands.

So he really needs a leather skirt of his own.

She rolls her eyes at him, hoping to make him smile, and it works, even if it’s a little wry.

“Go!” says Murphy, and Clarke starts digging.

It’s Bree who gets this one, but Clarke is close enough to her that it’s easy—she throws herself at Bree's legs, not at the package, and Bree doesn’t move right to avoid the attack. Clarke knocks her over and the package falls out of her hands. Letting the momentum carry her, Clarke snatches the bundle off the ground, moving fast and shaking off someone trying to grab her. She clears the line and grins, flushed with victory, until she remembers to feel self conscious.

Whatever. It’s fun, kind of. And she did win. Or at least come in fourth.

“Congratulations to Clarke,” says Murphy, without much feeling. If she had any doubt about what kind of tone the show was going for, Murphy would erase it. They’re not taking this even a little seriously. “Go get your man.”

She’s already watched the others do this, so she knows what she has to do. There’s a shackle around Bellamy's left ankle that she removes—it seems to be made of paper mache—and then she has to help him get dressed.

Once she’s straightened, she presses her lips to his shoulder, the best reassurance she can give him. She’s trying very hard to not check out his ass, or what his hands are covering. Anything, really.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi. I can’t believe it took you that long to start a fight.”

“I don’t start fights I can’t win. You want your skirt?”

“Desperately.” She can tell he wants to tell her he can do it himself, but he can’t figure out how to say it. All the other women helped their boyfriends get dressed. There’s no reason she shouldn’t too. “Thanks,” he finally says, and she manages to only see a little of his dick. Which actually makes things worse, because she could tell there was a lot more of it there wasn't seeing. Somehow, she _still_ has too much information about his penis.

It’s been less than a day and reality TV is already fucking with her head.

Once the skirt is on, Bellamy finally pushes the hair off his face, grinning, and then wraps his arm around Clarke and presses a kiss to her head. It's kind of a lot, being pressed up against him when they're both close to naked, but everyone else is doing it. 

“Good job with your first challenge,” he murmurs.

Clarke snuggles closer, reveling in the contact, feeling herself start to grin too. Victory is always a rush, even stupid, weird victory.

“Thanks. I think we're going to be fine.”

*

The challenge ends with Atom and Riley still naked, and Murphy provides them with some black thongs that are really just the slightest improvement on being naked. Clarke assumes they'll get more clothing at some point, but if they have to earn everything they wear, she's going to have to get better at looking at Bellamy in various states of undress.

Not that she's avoiding looking at him now, but she is having a little trouble not staring. They're supposed to be dating. His being mostly naked shouldn't be a big deal.

"It's kind of unfair you get real clothes," he teases. They've been moved to the villa where they'll be staying, which is pretty nice, albeit as completely lacking in privacy as everywhere else. There's a big room with a bunch of king-sized beds and an area with mirrors and vanities to do makeup and other personal grooming, but that's the only significant indoor space. Outside, it feels like a beach resort, all covered pavilions and hammocks, and if not for all the cameras and the weirdness, it would actually be kind of relaxing.

As it is, though, they're just hanging out here while the camera crew conducts interviews with each couple to get sound bytes, so it's hard to forget what's really going on.

"I don't know if a white slip counts as real clothing," she says. "Also, the gold bikini is getting less comfortable the longer I wear it. It's kind of smashing my boobs."

"Yeah? Let me see."

He's smirking, which is unfair, and she really wishes they could just rip the microphone necklaces off and have a quick check-in about how much harder this whole fake relationship thing is than she thought it would be. He's touching her _all the time_. It's simultaneously completely justified and completely maddening.

It doesn't help that the producers seem to want sex appeal to be a big thing, and they're constantly encouraging everyone to sit closer together, for girls to put their feet in their boyfriends' laps, for the guys to adjust their junk when they're walking. PDA has never been Clarke's favorite thing, but it seems to just be how it works here.

So she tugs her top down and lets Bellamy check out her cleavage, which is at least looking great.

"Not quite enough support," she says.

"We can find you a new one if you need that," says Anya, absent, not looking up from her phone. "But you'll get a more complete wardrobe tomorrow. Please work on socializing with the rest of the group," she adds. "This is a time to interact and get to know your fellow competitors."

"My favorite time," Bellamy grumbles, and Clarke leans up to peck him on the mouth before she disentangles herself from his arms. There's a decently large group by one of the pools, and they can definitely go over and get to know them. Raven and Roan are still her favorites, but they're getting interviewed, so they're going to have to work with what's available.

Even keeping track of all the couples is a little hard. Riley and Bree both blonde and seem to embody most of the blonde stereotypes Clarke has been fighting against her whole life--spacey and a little ditzy, but ultimately harmless--while Ilian and Gaia are cute and almost painfully earnest. Jasper is the scrawny kid she remembers from the first challenge, and as she suspected, his girlfriend is Maya, who's sweet, but seems a little quiet and nice for the whole thing. Clarke doesn't think she's particularly suited to reality TV, but she and Bellamy know how to step it up. She's not sure Maya can.

"So, you're kind of a Rome nerd, right?" Jasper asks Bellamy, once they've settled. "You're actually doing this because you genuinely like this stuff."

"He really does," says Clarke, grinning and elbowing him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Why are you doing it?"

"Made a bet with my best friend," he says, with a shrug. "And it sounded cool. Come on, gladiators, fighting, and showing off for Maya? It sounded so awesome. I was all over this."

"I do MMA," Ilian pipes up. "It's really cool to get to use that."

"He was on _American Ninja Warrior_ ," says Gaia, beaming with pride, and one of the PAs says, "Now kiss him."

Clarke drops her head onto Bellamy's shoulder to murmur, "This is so weird."

"You wanted to do it." Gaia and Ilian finish their kiss, and Bellamy clears his throat. "So, what do you guys do?"

"I'm a model," says Riley, instantly. "Nothing you would have seen or anything, but this is going to be great exposure."

"He's really going places," Bree adds. "Show them the look, babe."

Riley flashes them an expression that could have been stolen straight from _Zoolander_ , and Clarke manages to make her smile polite and neutral. 

"That's my big one," Riley says proudly. "I think I would have done really well in ancient Rome."

"Because of your modeling career?" Bellamy asks.

"And I love olive oil."

That's kind of how it goes, getting to know the competition. Bellamy can go on and on about how much he loved _The Iliad_ when he was a kid, how much he devoured Roman history, and then someone else will speak just as passionately about how much they love Caesar salad and the movie _Troy_ , and Clarke has to physically restrain him from starting a fight when he's not supposed to.

"You're going to get your chance," she reminds him. "That's why we're here. Next time you're in the ring with Atom, just remember he thinks _Troy_ was a good movie."

"There's my motivation." Their mics are still on, but the focus is off them, as private as they're getting. "You doing okay?" he murmurs, soft.

"Yeah, mostly. How about you? You're going to have it worse than me."

"Is it bad if I actually think this is kind of cool? Don't get me wrong, I'm nitpicking everything, but--"

"It's still cool."

"At least until I start fighting guys who do MMA."

"You're scrappy and hate losing," she says. "My money's still on you."

He grins, and it's a nice moment, one she won't be surprised to see if it shows up in the episode they air. Soft, quiet intimacy would make a nice change of pace.

"Bellamy, Clarke?" says Monroe. "You're up."

She brings them over to the place where they're filming interviews, and Luna touches up their makeup while other crew members check lighting and sound and angles. It's kind of unbelievable how much work goes into a quick, casual chat.

"Okay," says the camera guy. "Names, ages, occupations, how long you've been together, the basics. Bellamy first, then Clarke."

He clears his throat. "Okay, uh--I'm Bellamy, I'm twenty-seven. I work in publishing. Me and Clarke met in college, but we didn't get together until--"

This is going to work because she _knows_ he's faking trying to remember, giving her the chance to jump in with the date. They get each other.

"About a year ago," she supplies. 

"Yeah. Once we were both single at the same time it just felt like--this was it. I saw my chance and I took it. You need to do your demographics," he adds, a little too quickly.

"I'm Clarke, twenty-five. I'm a graphic designer. Like Bellamy said, we met in college and just got our acts together."

"And Bellamy, you're actually interested in ancient Rome, right?"

Clarke grins. "He named his sister after Emperor Augustus's sister."

"And she's never forgiven me," he says, rueful. "My mom always liked that kind of stuff. She told us stories when we were kids, and it stuck with me."

"He double-majored in history and classics in college. He was even thinking about teaching for a while."

"Which I won't ever be able to do now that I've been naked on a reality TV show."

"Yeah, but think of the glory," she teases, and he laughs, ducking his head.

"All that _Untitled Gladiator Project_ glory, yeah."

"Hey, it's called _Bromans_ ," says the camera man.

"Fuck, seriously?" asks Bellamy. "Can we quit?"

"Nope," says Clarke. "We're here, there's a competition, we're going to win it."

"Yeah?" asks the camera man. "Why are you going to win?"

"Because Clarke's the most competitive person of all time," Bellamy says, smiling at her. "If I'm not doing well enough she'll just take over."

"You'll be fine. You can put them to sleep with historical details and then you strike."

"Perfect. We've got this."

"Maybe a high-five?" the camera man suggests. "I don't know, something. We want a topper for the scene."

"Fist bump?" Clarke suggests. They bump fists and then blow them up, just like they used to in college, and the camera man snorts.

"Perfect. You can go back to the group, we'll let you know when we need you again."

It turns out they're done for the night, at least with official challenges. They have food and get to chat more, and they have access to basically unlimited booze, which Bellamy admits is historically accurate.

"And _awesome_ ," Clarke says, giggling against his shoulder as he hauls her back to their bed. "I didn't know reality TV shows gave you so much booze, we should go on them more often."

"They do that so you'll say something you regret, so be careful."

"Is that why you're not drunk?"

"Someone's got to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Besides, I'm an athlete. I don't want to be hungover and hating my life when they wake us up at the crack of dawn to do some stupid challenge."

"So smart," she says, taking advantage of their closeness to nuzzle his arm. It's a very solid arm, and he smells like sweat in the best way. "You're gonna win."

"I don't even know what the challenges are going to be. If it's all digging up bundles of clothes, that's not exactly skill-based."

"You'll figure it out. What was your name again?"

"Clarke."

She hears him huff a soft laugh. "I was asking the camera guy, but thanks for the reminder."

"Miller," said guy supplies.

"Cool, Miller. We don't have to wear the mics to sleep, right?"

"Nope. And I'm taking off in a few. There are cameras in the corners of the room, so you're still going to be on film, but no mics. So if you're going to have sex, just keep it down, I don't want to know about it."

"Do people really have sex on camera?" Bellamy asks, sounding horrified, and Clarke can't help stage-whispering, " _Porn_."

He unhooks the microphone from around her neck and deposits her on the bed. "Thanks for explaining how porn works, princess. See you tomorrow, Miller?"

"Yup. Good luck with that," he adds, turning off his camera and starting to pack up. "And all the other drunk people who are going to be back any minute."

"So we're definitely not going to have sex. Put this on," he adds, and Clarke blinks at the shirt he's offering. "I assume you don't want to sleep in your weird gold bikini."

"No," she agrees. "I forgot they let us bring stuff to sleep in."

"Yeah." He wets his lips, looking her up and down. "Do you need help? I know you're not always the most coordinated when you're drunk."

"I can take off my own shirt, thanks," she teases, and kisses him on the cheek, just in case the cameras think that means she's not really into him. "I'm good."

"Clearly." He turns away to root through his own bag, giving her a chance to get out of her clothes without his watching. Of course, she still has an audience, but he's sweet.

She flops onto the bed with a sigh of relief that comes out much louder than she meant it to. "Not being in a gold bikini is awesome," she tells Bellamy, and feels the dip of the bed as settles next to her.

"I'm happy for you. How drunk are you?"

"Four?"

"On a scale from one to ten?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He rolls over, curling around her, warm and solid. "You can be quiet, right?"

His voice is soft, just rough enough to make her shiver. "Yeah."

"How are you doing with this?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Fine." A pause, and then, "Are we cool? I didn't do anything--"

"You didn't do anything wrong. You've had all the bad stuff so far."

"I don't mind." He exhales, breath warm on her neck. "I wasn't it expecting to be so--non-stop."

"Yeah. But you're good. I'm good. We're good. Everything's cool."

"Okay." He squeezes her and starts to move away, and she puts her hand over his. 

"This is probably more couple-y, right? You should stay here."

"Yeah?"

"I like you," she says, and some part of her brain knows it wasn't exactly what she meant, but it's close enough.

"I like you too," he says. "Get some sleep."

*

"Good morning, gladiators and--whatever the word for a gladiator's girlfriend is, I don't know. Bellamy?"

Bellamy rolls his eyes at Murphy. "You know that's not really a thing, right?"

"It is when you're a Broman. Anyway, good morning! Did you all sleep well? Who's hungover? I don't care. It's challenge day, and tonight, someone is getting banished. Are you ready?"

There's a general roar from the crowd, and Clarke can see several people wincing at the noise. She's not feeling that bad, but it's definitely not her best morning. It's too bright, and she's still not wearing her own clothing, and she would have slept a lot later if it was up to her.

She's not ready, and Murphy apparently agrees. "I don't think you are. I think you need some help. The emperor has seen fit to give you a trainer, to aid you in your journey. Straight from the front lines of the legion--" Bellamy snorts, and Murphy flips him off without missing a beat. "Legatus!"

Anya steps up. "I shouldn't have to tell you this, but Legatus is the most impressive human specimen you've ever seen. I'd like swooning, gasping--big reactions here. He deserves it."

And Clarke will admit that Lincoln, when he appears, looks as good as she's ever seen him looking. She always knew he was ripped, but he's wearing armor that strategically covers his shoulders and crotch, leaving his broad chest bare and making him look even bigger and better than usual. 

She wolf whistles louder than anyone, and Bellamy whoops.

Lincoln stops next to Murphy, face like a stone wall. Clarke's never actually seen him when he's acting before, and it's impressive how much he already feels like a different person. This is Legatus, not Lincoln; like Anya says, he doesn't know them.

"Your new recruits, Legatus," says Murphy, and Lincoln nods.

"Gladiators!" he booms. "Step forward!"

Clarke gives Bellamy's hand a quick squeeze before they separate, Bellamy lining up with the other gladiators while she hangs back. Lincoln prowls in front of them, looking each man up and down like he's trying to see their souls. Again, there's no flicker of recognition when he gets to Bellamy, just dispassionate, clinical assessment.

Once he's done, he nods and returns to Murphy's side.

"This is the best you could do?" he asks.

"I didn't pick them. You can whip them into shape, right?"

"That depends. I'll have to see what they're capable of. Are you ready for a challenge, Bromans?"

Clarke has to bite back on a snicker, but Lincoln doesn't flinch. "I said," he barks, when no one else has a response either, "are you ready?"

They manage some general agreement, but it's pretty lackluster. To Clarke's surprise, instead of Lincoln repeating himself immediately, Anya steps in. " _Yes, Legatus_ ," she says. "In unison, when he asks again. The challenge will take time, I want to get through this quickly and move on. Understood?"

Lincoln says, "Pathetic. Once more, are you ready!"

They manage the unanimous response, although Anya still makes them do it a couple more times before she and the rest of the crew hustle them to the challenge area. 

The actual challenge is straightforward and not particularly exciting: there's a barrel full of stones, and they need to move the stones from one end of the road to the other in a chariot. Their girlfriends are in charge of putting the stones into smaller buckets, and once they're done with that, they'll get in the chariot to be brought to the other end of the road too.

"What exactly does this prove?" Clarke murmurs.

"I can drag heavy objects from point A to point B."

"No muttering," says Anya.

“This proves your worthiness,” says Lincoln. “For your cheek, you’ll go first.”

He says it like it’s a punishment, but Clarke is just as happy to get it out of the way. There's a lot of prep work to be done, instructions from safety personnel about how to move things and how Bellamy needs to hold the reins to the chariot, and it would just stress her out to be waiting for their turn. She'd rather just be done.

“How are you feeling?” Miller asks, as the crew does the final prep.

“I think I can put rocks in a bucket,” says Clarke.

Bellamy nods. “And then I can probably drag the buckets of rocks in a chariot.”

“Didn’t you do chariot stuff in Latin club?”

“Yeah, I was one of the guys who pulled the chariot in the toga parade in Latin club.”

“You’re so hot right now,” she teases, and he smirks.

“I’m probably the only person here who’s ever actually pulled a chariot, so yeah. I'm definitely the hottest."

She pats his arm. "Always."

The challenge itself flies by. Clarke tends to get in a zone when she’s competing, and while she knows the other contestants are heckling, she doesn’t even hear it. All there is is her task, and by the time she comes back to herself, she’s already in the chariot with Bellamy racing her to the finish line.

He’s more breathless than she is, no surprise, so she’s the one to hop down and help him disentangle himself from the straps, pull him back to the waiting area, find him a jug of water.

He drinks what must be half of it before he comes up for air. “Jesus, that was heavier than I thought.”

Clarke pushes his damp curls off his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Not as in shape as I thought,” he admits, with a rueful smile.

“You did great,” she says, pressing her lips to his shoulder. She thought it would be difficult, being so physical with him, but if she’s honest, she thinks it’ll be worse when she has to stop. “You’re totally winning right now.”

That makes him laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

He passes her the water and they catch their breath as the next team preps. It’s Dax and Ontari, so far Clarke’s least favorite of the other couples, and she’s hoping they’re the first to leave.

It’s hard to tell how anyone really does at the challenge. They don’t have access to a clock or anything, and she has trouble guessing who takes longer. Jasper and Maya feel like they lag more, and Bree takes a long time getting the rocks in the buckets, but Clarke's not actually _sure_ they’re worse than anyone else. By the time Bree and Riley go, everything feels like it’s taking forever. Anyone could win, as far as Clarke's concerned, and at this point she'd just be happy it was over.

"How do you think you guys did?" Raven asks, as Murphy and Lincoln consult with Anya and another crew member to figure out the winners. They seem to be taking it seriously, even Murphy, like this show has some kind of actual integrity.

"We finished the challenge," says Bellamy. "And I think we did it kind of fast? So I doubt we lost. How about you?"

"First place, of course," says Roan. "For every competition."

Raven holds up her hand and he high fives without even looking at her. Clarke likes them, but she definitely wants to take him down a peg or two.

She might be better at reality TV than she thought.

"The emperor is pleased with your performance," says Murphy. "He looks forward to seeing more of your work."

"I thought we were impressing Legatus," says Bellamy.

"I thought I told you to shut up," he says, without missing a beat. But Clarke's starting to be able to tell Murphy's TV voice from his casual voice, and she's pretty sure that won't make the final cut. "Legatus, tell us which of the gladiators have caught your eye."

"Dax," says Lincoln. "Bellamy. Roan. Please step forward." They do, and Lincoln paces in front of them. Unlike Murphy, Clarke doubts he'll ever break character. "Dax, I was impressed with your ruthless focus. Bellamy, you and your girlfriend worked together perfectly, and your ease with the chariot was obvious. Roan, your speed left your competition in the dust. You have all three proven yourselves to be worthy competitors this day. But there can be only one winner. And that winner is--"

There's a pause for dramatic effect, the camera men moving around to get reaction shots as everyone waits. It's not a complete surprise that Clarke finds herself actually anxious about the results, but she can't help being a little annoyed that she's been so effortlessly sucked in.

"Bellamy!"

Clarke whoops, and he turns to hug her before anything, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before going to Lincoln. There's no actual _prize_ , aside from bragging rights, but Clarke really did want those bragging rights.

"You are well on your way," says Lincoln, "to the Emperor's Games! And one of your competitors is on his way to banishment."

"The emperor will be informed of your deeds, and together we will decide whom shall face the banishment block," Murphy adds.

Bellamy takes a second. "Who."

Murphy ignores him. "We'll see you after dinner tonight. You don't have to be sober, but you need to be able to act sober, so save the heavy drinking until after. Later!"

They're not actually free, of course. As the winners of the challenge, she and Bellamy need to talk about the experience, and then Anya takes them out to confront Dax, Ontari, Roan, and Raven about their "surprise win." It's staged, obvious bullshit, but Clarke doesn't mind talking a little trash and bragging about how Bellamy totally crushed the challenge. 

"This could be fun," she tells Bellamy, and he laughs.

"You're just saying that because we're winning."

"And it's awesome."

"So, I just have to keep winning?"

"That's the plan."

Anya comes in to give them more instructions before the banishment ceremony itself. It is, apparently, a dress-up affair, at least in fake Roman terms, with Harper and Luna on site to touch up their makeup and help with hair. It feels weird and a little silly to be dressing up to stand around and listen to people get kicked off of a TV show, especially when they're still wearing sparkly gold underwear beneath their dressier togas, but it's kind of fun too.

"I'm getting into this," she admits.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, fond. "Of course you are."

The ceremony itself is as weird as all of the official _Bromans_ events. The PAs get them set up on the stairs while Lincoln and Murphy act like they're having a very serious conversation. There's a fire and banners with everyone's faces on it and it's supposed to be a somber affair, but even sober, Clarke is having trouble keeping a straight face.

"Just put your face on my shoulder," Bellamy says, putting his arm around her and getting her face tucked against him. "Now it looks like you're crying."

"Thanks for preserving the integrity of _Bromans_."

"Someone's got to do it."

Right on cue, Murphy steps up. "Friends, Bromans, countrymen. The time has come to bid one of your fellows goodbye. Only one of you can rise above your station as the winner of the emperor's games; the rest must face banishment. And tonight, we lose our first Broman."

"Please stop saying Broman," Bellamy mutters, and Clarke snickers again.

"Riley," he says, ignoring the interruption. "You struggled in both challenges, and when your girlfriend couldn't find you clothes, you berated her. This is unbecoming of a gladiator. Step forward."

Riley takes his place at one of the torches, hands behind his back.

“Did he really yell at her?" Clarke murmurs.

“No clue,” Bellamy admits. "Maybe?"

“Jasper!” Lincoln continues. “The emperor has concerns about you. You’re already lagging. He doubts your fighting spirit can make up for your small stature.”

“Judge me by my size, do you?” Jasper asks, in a credible Yoda voice, and Clarke’s pretty sure she hears Murphy mutter, “Nerds.”

“Step forward,” says Lincoln, and Jasper stands behind the other torch.

Murphy steps back in. “Rome is kind of a democracy, right? Shut up, Bellamy. In the Broman Empire, the citizens have the final say. Talk it over with your girlfriends, and then come stand behind the gladiator you believe deserves to stay.”

“Riley, Jasper,” says Lincoln. “You may speak in your own defense.”

One of the things Clarke has always found oddest about reality TV shows is the way people act, basically from the first episode, like they’ve been friends for years and not hours. It’s no less odd from this side. Riley takes that tactic, talking about how they know he’s capable of so much more and how much he respects and loves them. It’s surreal, to say the least.

Jasper apparently feels the same way. “Wow, yeah, no. It’s been like two days? You guys seem cool, but you don’t know me. Which sucks! I’m very lovable, and you deserve the chance to get to know me. I wouldn’t want to deprive you. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty tiny. If you want someone you can beat, you should keep me. That’s my thing! I'm weak but fun. I'll be back here again and again for as you let me. But whatever, yeah, it's your call, do whatever you want. Good talk."

"Compelling argument," says Murphy. "Talk among yourselves."

"I was already going to tell you vote for Jasper," says Clarke. 

"Yeah, but we've known Riley forever and we don't want to betray that deep and meaningful relationship," Bellamy murmurs, and she elbows him. "This is such a fucking train wreck."

"All you have to do is start losing and we can go."

He grins. "A train wreck we're going to win."

"Bromans!" says Murphy. If Clarke had alcohol on her, she would definitely be taking a drink every time he said that. "It's been a hard day, with harder ones to come. But for one of you, all roads lead to home."

Clarke cracks up hard enough they have to do another take, but Murphy looks pleased. "Yeah," he says. "That's how we roll. Gladiators, stand behind the man whom you think should stay!"

"Still who," Bellamy says, and goes to Jasper with most of the rest of the group. The will of the people is obvious.

Clarke would like to say the banishment ceremony gets less ridiculous from there, but that's not the Broman way. Murphy tells Riley he has to leave as he arrived, so he strips out of his toga and walks out in his sparkly gold underwear as Lincoln sets fire to a banner with his face on it, and Clarke has to once again bury her face against Bellamy so everyone won't see her laughing. It is, without a doubt, the most over-the-top shit of all time, but she actually kind of loves it.

"Best train wreck ever," she tells Bellamy, as they head back to bed. "We're winning, right?"

He squeezes her hand, his own face bright with laughter. "Yeah. This is definitely winning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't plan on getting a new chapter up every day, but I'm tentatively aiming for every other day? Also I cannot emphasize enough how closely I am following the actual Bromans canon, they 100% start naked and have to leave in sparkly gold underwear. "All roads lead to home" is also theirs, but I could not help using it.


	3. Episode 2

Clarke isn't always a fan of drinking to deal with her problems, but she has to admit, it was a lot easier going to sleep when she was buzzed.

"Not wearing a shirt wasn't a contractual requirement, was it?" she asks. The women are mostly in t-shirts or tank tops, but the guys are universally in underwear. As a bisexual, it's a lot to deal with, even leaving aside the specific issue of how hot _Bellamy_ is. 

"I'm not going to be the only guy who's wearing clothes to sleep," he grumbles. Clarke would like to point out that it's absurd to develop a rivalry over who's wearing the most clothing to bed, but it seems pointless. They're on a reality TV show, and they're both going to develop all kinds of ridiculous rivalries. The least she can do is let him have his.

She unhooks her microphone necklace and puts it on the vanity, trying to remember how they went to sleep the previous night. She knows that Bellamy spooned her, and it was really nice, and that they actually got to talk, but the alcohol helped her turn off her brain and stop worrying about it, and now she has no such help.

"Stop overthinking and go to bed," Bellamy says, fond. "We won the challenge today, we're good at this. Don't worry about getting kicked off yet."

It's a good cover for her nervousness, and she rolls her eyes and slides into bed, letting him join her once he's shed his microphone. His boxers look a little more comfortable than the underwear the show gives him, and his arms, once they wrap around her, are solid and warm. He really does seem to be doing fine.

"I'm not worried. I know you've got this."

"You wish," says Raven from somewhere in the room, some kind of reflexive, half-asleep trash talk. Clarke doesn't even know where she is. "You got lucky."

"Save the fighting for when the cameras are on," says Jasper. "What’s the point if no one’s filming?"

"Practice," says Raven. 

After a second, Bellamy slides his arms back around Clarke, tucking his face against her neck so his mouth is right by her ear. "Good?"

"Yeah. We didn't even do that much today."

"It's still weird."

"Very weird." She squeezes his hand on her stomach. "How are your arms?"

"Actually kind of sore."

"Maybe they'll take it easy on us tomorrow."

He snorts and cuddles a little closer. "Yeah, keep telling yourself."

It’s not like she really thinks it’s going to be easy, but at the same time she has very little idea what the rest of the competition is going to look like, especially for her. She can't be digging for clothes every day, and, as Bellamy has repeatedly pointed out, _gladiator's girlfriend_ wasn't actually an official position, so her duties are nebulous at best. Bellamy will, presumably, have more challenges from Lincoln, but Clarke doesn’t really know what she’s going to be doing.

Still, a good night’s sleep couldn’t hurt.

The morning starts off awkwardly, with Bellamy’s morning wood pressing into her leg, but it’s an expected kind of awkwardness. He’s a guy, he wakes up with hard-ons sometimes. The fact that she’d like to roll him over and climb on top of him is inconvenient, but not surprising. He’s always been hot, and she’s always wondered how it would be to date him.

Currently, it’s pretty great.

“Fuck,” Bellamy mutters.

“We’re still not doing porn, so—“

He rolls away, stretching. “So we’ve got another exciting day ahead of us. Which underwear matches unwelcome erections?”

“The gold, for sure,” says Sterling, and Bellamy blows him a kiss.

So far, so good.

After breakfast, Lincoln comes to take the guys away for whatever training they have, and Clarke and the rest of the girls are left to their own devices.

Which, on a TV show, means that Anya has a list of talking points for them.

“Why don’t you discuss how you met your boyfriends?” she suggests, with a tone that makes clear it’s not optional.

“We’ve actually known each other forever,” says Gaia. “My mom and his mom went to the same church, we used to have play dates. They wanted us to get married. Then I went to private school and I didn’t see him until we ended up at the same college. And we’ve been together ever since.”

Most of the other stories aren’t quite as romantic. Roma and Atom met at a party, Ontari and Dax are in the same rugby league, Sterling and Mel matched on Tinder. Maya comes through with a cute story about how Jasper worked for the student help desk and she was always having trouble with her computer; Raven just taps her prosthetic leg.

“After the accident, I decided I wanted to get in better shape. Never did much of that before, but I didn’t want anyone seeing my leg and deciding I couldn’t take care of myself, so I signed up for a gym. Roan worked there, I told him what I wanted, he said he’d make it happen. He did, and then I switched trainers so I could ask him out.” She nudges Clarke’s leg. “What about you? How’d you and Bellamy meet?”

She smiles. “Queer student union at college. We got in a fight within about ten minutes of meeting each other about the difference between bisexual and pansexual.” 

There’s a kind of awkward pause, and then Gaia asks, “What is the difference?”

“It depends on who you ask. Whom,” she corrects, remembering Bellamy’s ongoing feud with Murphy. “Bellamy usually identifies as pan because he says gender isn’t really a factor in who he’s into. I’m usually attracted to different things depending on gender, so I say I’m bi.”

“So you _both_ like men and women?” asks Mel, sounding slightly distressed.

“Non-binary people too,” says Clarke, with a shrug. She assumes the non-salacious parts of this conversation will end up on the cutting room floor, and she might end up some sort of promiscuous bisexual edit, but she’ll live with it. She can do her best to educate the six people she’s with. “Basically everyone.”

“And you’re not worried?” asks Ontari.

“Worried about what?”

“He’s hanging out with all these hot, naked guys!” Mel blurts out.

“He’s hanging out with girls in bikinis, too,” says Clarke. “I’m not worried about that, why would I be worried about the guys?”

“Don’t you think he feels like he’s missing out?” asks Mel. “On, like, men?”

It’s a conversation Clarke has had enough times in enough different forms that she’s not worried about knowing her lines, which is good because, of course, she and Bellamy _aren’t_ together, and neither of them has made any promises of fidelity. 

“No one ever gets everything from just one person. You get different things from dating Sterling than you would from dating Bellamy or Roan. We love each other, and we picked each other. That’s what matters.”

The statement only stings a little, but it’s not like she’s worried Bellamy is going to dump her for anyone here. He’s not that kind of guy, even if the relationship is fake.

But they’ll leave, and she’ll have to go back to being his best friend. The lie isn’t her faith, it’s his feelings, and that’s so much worse.

“Roan’s pan too,” Raven says, easy, shifting the focus off Clarke. “I think. He doesn’t really give a shit but when he wants a label that’s what he goes with. And he’s not leaving me for Bellamy, so don’t even ask.”

“I’d be more worried about the two of them with Legatus,” says Roma, with a sigh. Apparently her Lincoln thirst was genuine.

“As long as they let us watch I’m fine with that,” says Raven.

Editing had better leave that in the final show; Octavia will die.

Clarke offers her fist and Raven bumps it, and Anya has them wonder about what the guys might be doing before letting them actually chat among themselves.

“Can I ask what happened to your leg?” Clarke asks Raven, soft enough the other girls won’t hear, even if the mics will.

Raven looks down at her legs in the water, shrugs. “Nothing special. Car accident. The leg got pretty badly crushed. They had a couple solutions, I picked this one. I’m figuring I’ll have a total cyborg body one of these days anyway, so I’m just getting a head start.”

“Does it do anything cool?”

Raven laughs, and they chat about medical technology until Murphy shows up. 

“Come on, ladies. Time to start pulling your weight. Can’t just hang out at the pool all day.”

Clarke and Raven exchange a look, but it’s not like they’re not going to go. If nothing else, she needs to report back to Bellamy on whatever they’re doing.

Murphy leads them through the winding streets of the fake city, filled with random extras. It’s still surreal to her that this is _happening_ , that someone approved and funded all of this, that they believe they’ll make money off of it. 

The entire entertainment industry is a mystery to Clarke, honestly.

They arrive at some random alleyway that’s full of buckets, grapes, and bottles, and Clarke has to grin. She doesn’t know a ton about Rome, but she knows they loved wine.

“As Roman women,” Murphy says, “it’s your duty to assist the empire in various ways. Today, the emperor requires your help to crush the grapes for his wine.”

Clarke frowns. “How do we win?”

The question seems to catch him off guard. “What?”

“Do we just have to crush the most grapes or—“

“Everyone’s a winner. Go nuts.”

Raven raises her eyebrows. “So our whole challenge is just to get drunk and jump on some grapes?” she asks.

“You’re welcome,” says Murphy, and Anya doesn’t even have anything to add.

Clarke’s pretty sure she wouldn’t make a great historic Roman wife, but so far, being a Broman girlfriend is definitely her jam.

“All right,” says Roma, grabbing a bottle off the table. “Let’s do it.”

*

The afternoon passes in a haze of giggling and drinking. To her relief, none of the women seem worried she’s going to flirt with them or be inappropriate, and everyone is bright and happy and kind of alarmingly friendly. Obviously, Clarke wants Bellamy to win, and she's going to do everything she can to help him, but she really can't do much about that right now, so she might as well get drunk and talk about YA novels with Gaia.

Fun, like Octavia said.

Murphy collects them at a fairly arbitrary time, and they grab as many bottles of wine as they can carry to bring back with them. Clarke's legs are sticky and getting stickier in the sun, but there's a pool in the villa. She can jump in and Bellamy will make sure she doesn't drown, assuming he's back. He can have wine and keep her alive. It'll be great.

She spots him immediately when they get back to the living area, sitting by the pool where she was earlier, and when she remembers it's basically her _job_ to touch him a lot, it's the best thing ever. She tucks herself into his side, feeling nothing but sun-warmed skin as she snuggles in close. 

"Hi," he says, amused. "Holy shit, you're wasted."

"We made wine."

"I'm pretty sure it takes a long time for it to ferment enough to get you this drunk."

"We had to taste some pre-made first. So we'd know what we were going for."

"Yeah, that's definitely how it works." He presses his lips to her hair. "You smell really weird right now."

"Thanks. You're sweaty." She frowns, pulls back to study him. "And kind of sandy? What did you do?"

He shrugs, but now that she's paying attention, she can see the weariness in his frame. He's still wearing nothing but the standard-issue black underwear, and she was distracted with all the muscle and skin. Not to be shallow, but it's a really good look for him, and it was easy to focus on that, and how happy she was to see him.

"Got in some fights."

Her fingers ghost over his stomach, checking for sensitive spots. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, yeah. They're not actually going to let anyone get seriously hurt."

"You should have some wine," she says, offering him the bottle, and he laughs and takes a generous swig.

"Thanks. Did you win?"

"We played with grapes and got drunk, Bellamy, everyone won."

"So it wasn't actually a competition."

"No."

She feels the press of his lips on her hair. "Good job."

"I came out for both of us, by the way. Just so you know."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Ranting about heteronormativity and queerness in ancient Rome. It came up."

"Hashtag brand. Did it go okay? Was everyone cool?"

"Yeah, surprisingly. Jasper pointed out that we’re all going to get a bunch of inappropriate hard-ons, so I'll be in good company."

"That is shaping up to be a theme."

"The only inappropriate thing about this morning is that we weren't in private," he says, covering up for her slip, and she kisses his shoulder so she doesn't have to say anything.

As the afternoon goes on, she sobers up. The producers get them to talk some about the challenges, and she thinks they're putting some token effort into stoking rivalries, but no one seems that invested in it. Ontari's pretty good at talking shit, but Dax prefers to loom silently, and neither of them seems to really want to lean too hard into the villain edit, especially given how laid back everyone else is outside of challenges. Even Clarke has trouble getting that much ire at any actual individuals. She wants to beat them, but it's not like she's going to sabotage anyone. There's being competitive, and then there's being an asshole, and to be honest, Bromans just isn't worth it.

Besides, it's _nice_. They don't have anything else to do for the rest of the day, and they just get to hang out by the pool, sunning themselves and chatting. There are cameras around, but most of the producers have left. It's still performative, but the only real acting Clarke's doing is cuddling with Bellamy, and even that's not totally unheard of for them.

In a way, it's a lot like being back at college, except that instead of being in a common room, they're in a fake Roman villa. There are even some shitty speakers with a radio, and there's wine and music and kind of decent food.

"This is the weirdest vacation ever," she says. "I hope we don't get sent home tomorrow."

Bellamy smiles. His freckles are already getting more pronounced in the sun, and he's taken out his contacts and switched to glasses. He looks like _her_ Bellamy, which is a ridiculous thing to be thinking, because all Bellamys are hers. But he tends to wear his contacts in public and his glasses at home, so it always feels more intimate. Something just for the two of them.

"I think I can keep us in here."

"Any idea about what you guys might have to do? Favorite gladiator stuff?"

"Hopefully go a few rounds with a lion."

"Or just Li--Legatus in a lion suit."

"His secret fursona." 

"Don't make me think about that." She lets out a contented sigh and her eyes flutter closed. "I'm going to fall asleep on you pretty soon."

"I know how you get when you drink wine, yeah." He squeezes her shoulder. "I'll drag you to bed whenever you want. Don't worry about it."

"I know. You're the best."

"Thanks," he says. "I try."

*

Clarke was expecting it to take more than a couple days for her to get comfortable being naked on camera, but it's hard to struggle with it that much, especially early in the morning. Casual nudity is _everywhere_ , and her own nakedness is completely unremarkable. Roan continues to consider clothes to be the enemy, and while no one else is that extreme, privacy is basically impossible. Even without the cameras, there aren't a lot of walls.

The worst part is being naked with Bellamy, honestly, but even that she can't manage to feel that self-conscious about. They knew that some of this would happen, he's said he's fine, and she's fine too. The deepening attraction is undeniably inconvenient, but it's not worse because she's stripping down and getting changed in front of him. They manage to be fairly good about not looking at each other without being totally obvious about it, but even after only a few days, she can do pretty well imagining what Bellamy looks like completely naked, and she's trying to avoid it.

So, of course, while the guys get ready for the day's big challenge, Anya tells the girls it's time to talk about sex.

"I guess if I looked like Roan, I wouldn't want to wear clothes either," Gaia muses. "Is he always like that?"

"He gets that he has to keep his pants on in public," Raven says. "But I'm pretty sure he got into personal training because he wanted an excuse to wander around without most of his clothes on."

"And bless him for that," says Roma, and Raven raises her jug of water like a toast.

"More salacious," says Anya. When no one says anything, she huffs and corrects to, "Juicier. I'm sure you can do better than Roan's bare chest."

"Has anyone else, um--" Gaia bites her lip. "Is there anywhere private to have sex? Has anyone checked?”

To Clarke's surprise, Ontari leans forward, eyes sharp. "It depends on how much effort you're willing to put in."

"And how much of an exhibitionist you're willing to be," Raven adds. "I'm not worrying about it yet, but once the bedrooms clear out a little, I'm pretty sure we can all just agree that we're pretending not to hear what's going on in the other beds."

"I want to hear more about Ontari's sex hacks," says Clarke. "What kind of effort are you talking?"

Ontari shrugs one shoulder, but she's clearly enjoying being the center of attention. "Microphones come off at night, and there are cameras around, but it's dark. Plenty of alleyways for--privacy. Keep quiet and choose your spot carefully and they won't get anything."

"Or just don't get laid for a couple weeks," says Maya. "I'm just saying!" she adds, when a few people turn to look at her. "It's not that hard."

"Maybe not when your boyfriend looks like Jasper," says Roma, which seems kind of harsh. "But all the adrenaline, all this bare skin--I'm with Ontari, why wait when you can work around it? Clarke gets it."

Clarke startles. "What?"

"You and Bellamy must have sneaked off. If I wasn't here with Atom, I would have tried to sneak off with him too, no offense. I wouldn't be able to resist."

"I think we can acknowledge that Clarke's boyfriend is hot without acting like mine isn't," Maya protests, mild. "But I'll take Clarke's opinion on getting laid."

"It's awesome," says Clarke. "Generally. But I wasn't planning to do it here. There's too much wine!" she adds, when a few people start to boo. "I drink wine, I get cuddly, I pass out. Bellamy knows how it works. Maybe if I'm sober, we'll think about sneaking out. Or when he wins again," she says, with a smirk. "Victory is a pretty good aphrodisiac."

"If he wins again," says Ontari. "I don't know how he'll do once it's one-on-one."

"Neither do I," Clarke admits, with a smile. "I've never seen him fight anyone."

"Really?" asks Raven. "I figured you guys got in bar fights or something."

"That's not one-on-one, that's a brawl," she protests, and the conversation shifts to fights everyone's boyfriends have gotten into. Bellamy definitely has less direct combat experience than everyone else, but that probably means he's gotten fewer concussions. And they are getting trained. As long as he's not losing hard, he has time to get better.

Anya's walkie crackles to life, apparently letting her know they're ready at the arena. Anya gets them to get changed into dresses, which Clarke appreciates once they get there. The arena is smaller than the colloseum, and cooler, with the seven of them in shady stands. 

As soon as they arrive, it's obvious why there was more prep work for this challenge. Lincoln is standing next to a row of sticks with padding on both sides that Clarke vaguely recognizes from commercials for American gladiators. Bellamy hasn't mentioned working with them before, and she assumes they had a lot of safety information to go over. 

There are also blindfolds and helmets, so she's prepared for this one to be stressful to watch.

"We're going to explain this to the audience via narration," says Anya, "so I'll just be filling you in. As the standout from training yesterday, Ilian will not be participating in this head-to-head battle. The rest of the gladiators will be fighting with pugil sticks, blindfolded. The goal is to push the opponent out of the ring. We've attached bells to the gladiators' clothes, so you'll want to stay quiet so they'll be able to hear each other moving. Obviously, you can't yell out instructions for them or anything like that, and if you do, it's a loss for your gladiator. Any questions?"

It’s actually a cool challenge, and one Clarke thinks isn’t bad for Bellamy. He might not always fight smart, but he _is_ smart, and it’s not like he’ll be able to just rush in here. She's not convinced he'll win, but it's probably better than an all-out brawl.

"Good," says Anya, when no one says anything. "The match order will be Atom versus Dax, Bellamy versus Sterling, and finally Jasper versus Roan. Anyone who wins his match will not be up for banishment this week. Take your seats; I'll tell you when you can cheer and when to stop."

The quiet, serious atmosphere is new and somewhat disconcerting; Clarke finds herself actually feeling anxious. Aside from Bellamy, she doesn't really care about wins or losses, but the sense of anticipation is enough to get her sucked in as soon as the fight starts. Which is a miracle in and of itself, because the tension really shouldn't be there. It's ridiculous, watching Atom and Dax tiptoe around the arena, trying to hear each other without being heard, but Clarke is still spellbound.

Atom strikes first, and Clarke actually jumps at the sound of the contact, hard and real. It's not going to be dangerous, but they're going to have bruises. Her eyes cut to Bellamy without her even realizing it, and he's watching, as intense as she’s ever seen him, like he's taking notes for his own bout.

Atom presses his advantage, but he's nowhere near the edge, and Dax has time to turn it around, to push him back and out of the ring, even without knowing exactly where that is. Lincoln declares him the winner, and the two of them are ushered off to the side for the show's medic to check over before they get to reunite with their girlfriends for the cameras, and Monroe gets Bellamy and Sterling over to start getting ready.

"What do you think?" Raven murmurs.

"No idea. I think he’s probably going to have fun. It’s a puzzle.”

“And he’s a nerd.”

“Giant nerd,” Clarke agrees. She figures if she says it enough, that’ll be his edit. They’re making it easy. “He’ll be fine. He’s smart.”

By the sticks, Bellamy shakes his arm out and cracks his neck, looking loose and fairly relaxed. Sterling is trying to come across that way too, but he’s less muscular than Bellamy, if not shorter, and he doesn’t seem thrilled with the matchup.

The blindfolds and helmets go on; Clarke finds herself leaning forward, heart in her throat. It’s not a big deal, not really, but—

Bellamy stays close to the edge of the ring, checking its location with his foot every few steps, making sure he knows where he is in relation to it. It’s probably not a bad strategy, but Clarke can’t stop thinking how he’s one bad hit away from getting pushed out. If Sterling finds him first, he could be screwed.

But Sterling comes at him from the wrong angle, pushing Bellamy back in the direction he came from, so Bellamy still knows exactly where he is. All it takes is one good hit at the right angle and Sterling falls and hits the sand outside the ring.

Even Lincoln is taken a little off guard by the quick finish. “We have a winner!” he manages after a second. “Bellamy!”

The medic doesn’t have much to do with so few blows landed, and the PA brings Clarke to Bellamy almost immediately. She hugs and kisses him, like the other couples have been doing, and he keeps his arm around her as Miller takes them aside to discuss the victory.

“I really thought he was going to just knock you out on the first hit,” Clarke says. “You were right at the edge, it would have been so easy.”

He snorts. “Thanks for believing in me.”

“It was a really good plan! But I was worried.”

“Yeah, me too. I thought I was just going to step out and lose before he even got to me.”

“That would have been embarrassing.”

“You would have dumped me.”

“Immediately.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” He kisses her shoulder. “Good thing I won.”

“Yeah, it would have been really awkward if we broke up and still had to be on the show together.”

"We would have had to share custody of Jasper."

"Why Jasper?"

"Because I don't trust him to take care of himself."

Clarke smiles, leans up for another kiss because it feels like what she's supposed to do. What she _wants_ to do, if she's honest. "But you won, so we're good."

"Yeah," he agrees. "We're good."

*

"I'm going to keep saying whom every time," Murphy tells Bellamy, before they start the banishment ceremony. "You get that, right?"

"I'm going to keep correcting you," Bellamy says.

"Cool, good talk. Bromans!" he booms, to the entire group. "I hope you all enjoyed today's challenges, because one of you is about to become ancient history."

"That was actually pretty solid," Clarke murmurs.

"The emperor was pleased to see you excel in your trials today. He wouldn't have mind if Bellamy took a little longer and got a little more roughed up, but he recognizes the prowess of the victors. And he frowns up the non-prowess of the losers."

"Really?" asks Bellamy. “That’s what you’re going with?”

"So now we need to see whom is going home."

"Jesus Christ."

"I don't think he's really much of a thing yet, but you’re the expert. Atom, Sterling, Jasper. The three of you lost your challenges today. The emperor has not been impressed with your performances. Jasper," he says. "You faced banishment before."

"Yeah, I'm figuring that's going to keep happening until it sticks.”

"Legatus argued in your defense," says Murphy. "Don't make him regret it."

That actually surprises Jasper into silence, and Murphy calls Atom and Sterling down instead. Clarke doesn't have much of an opinion between the two of them--they haven’t distinguished themselves much, and they give fairly similar speeches about how they have more to offer--but Bellamy feels bad voting for Sterling to leave when he was the one to put him in the losers' bracket in the first place, so they opt to banish Atom instead. Ilian and Dax agree, while Roan and Jasper want to keep him, so Atom and Roma are out. They hug, because there are no hard feelings, and Atom strips down to his gold spandex underwear while Lincoln sets his face on fire.

Just another day in Brome.

As they walk back, Clarke slips her hand into Bellamy's and squeezes. "Hey, you won."

"I did, yeah."

"I was thinking we should celebrate."

Even in the dark, she can see his eyebrows shoot up. "Celebrate how?"

"Ontari was telling me about all these dark alleys where the cameras can't really see what we're doing." It's the kind of statement that will definitely make it into the show, because innuendo is reality TV gold, but from the way Bellamy's expression softens, she's pretty sure he knows what she’s really looking for. It feels like they haven’t had a second to themselves, not really.

"That sounds awesome. I should win more often."

"Hey, you're two for two so far."

"Don't jinx it," he says. 

"So, does that mean you don't want to celebrate?"

"I didn't say that."

She grins. "Cool. Let's see what we can find."


	4. Episode 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record, my update schedule for this is to post the next chapter once I have the chapter AFTER that done, to give myself a buffer. I'm hoping it's just gonna be like a day or two between chapters but who knows what tomorrow will bring

They wait until they've gotten their mics off and the camera crew has left to sneak off. It's still decently warm, but Clarke takes a blanket with them anyway. There's some hooting and wolf-whistling as they leave, but it's all in good fun. No one's going to begrudge them (apparently) getting laid.

They're far enough from civilization that there are stars everywhere, the kind of perfect night they never get in the city. Clarke doesn't really need to be invisible, just far enough from cameras that what they're saying isn't picked up by whatever microphones are around.

Bellamy's on the same page, because he leans in close and says, "Come on, I know a place."

"What, you've been scouting places with no mics?"

"More like I've been making friends with the camera crew. Miller told me most of the cameras out here don't do sound because there's no point, so yeah. As long as we aren't wearing our own mics, we're pretty safe. We just need to find somewhere they won't know we're not having sex." He glances back. "Unless you really wanted to celebrate our victory."

"I just wanted a break, honestly."

“I get that. Give me the blanket.”

He puts it down in the alley like they’re going to have a picnic, and the two of them stretch out on their backs side by side.

“Still okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. It’s actually a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

“Really?”

“You’re always sweaty and mostly naked. What’s not to like?”

To her surprise, he doesn’t laugh. “If you want out—“

“No! It’s honestly—it’s fun. Really fun. And it’s not like it’s hard to tell everyone you’re the coolest person ever.”

“Is that what you’re telling them?”

“You are.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I feel like I should have more to say,” he admits. “Every time I’m talking to the camera, I feel like I’ve got a thousand things I can’t tell them, but now I don’t know what they are.”

“Yeah. You haven’t done anything wrong,” she tells him. It feels like what he needs to hear most.

“Good.”

“Have I?”

“Jesus, no. You’re good.” He clears his throat. “It’s not like this is hard for me either. It’s, uh—it’s nice. It’s been a while since I did any of this stuff.”

“You’ve never done any of this stuff. Running around your yard with a cardboard sword doesn’t count.”

“I meant the dating stuff.”

She smiles, rolls over to curl into his side. “That means we can cuddle more, right? I think we should cuddle more.”

"Right now, or in general?"

"Both."

He tugs her close. "Both is good."

They lie there in silence for a little while, enjoying the silence and privacy after so many days of non-stop _people_ , until Clarke starts giggling, and then _laughing_.

He squeezes her again. "What?"

"All roads lead to home."

Of course, he starts laughing too, although Clarke's not sure about the with her/at her line there, but it's still nice. The cameras wish they were getting this; it's a really nice moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he says, still laughing a little. "I can't believe this is real. Who the fuck greenlit this show?"

"I don't know, but I'm really glad they did."

"Yeah," he agrees, and she feels his lips press against her hair. "Come on, we should get back. It would be weird if we fell asleep here."

"Definitely scandalous." 

He disentangles himself and stands, offering his hand and pulling her up. "If anyone asks, we had awesome sex."

"The best," she agrees, and they walk back to the villa together.

She doesn't even notice until they're getting back in bed that he never let go of her hand.

*

Not that she has any intention of announcing this to the cameras, but the next morning, Clarke decides she's just going to enjoy herself.

She still wants to win, obviously. Winning is a part of enjoying herself. But winning is also going to be somewhat random and ridiculous, especially for her. Her challenges, apparently, largely do not matter. And Bellamy knows she's on his side and rooting for him, but the idea of getting up serious animosity over this is absurd, even to someone as competitive as she is. And, honestly, if she _did_ get too into it, she'd only open herself up for a villain edit.

Besides, Bellamy's already doing his best. She's just going to enjoy herself and lean into the ridiculousness.

"Is there any other Roman alcohol we could make today?" she asks Bellamy over breakfast. "Maybe something we can do shots of?"

"You can do shots of anything as long as you have a shot glass." She elbows him, and he rolls his eyes. "Seriously, I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm going to spend the day getting my ass kicked, so maybe don't brag about it."

"Hey, you've been doing the ass-kicking so far," she teases. "Fine, what do you think you're going to do today?"

"I'm hoping we get to work more with weapons, honestly. The sticks were fine, but there's a lot of cool stuff gladiators got to use that I wouldn't mind playing around with."

"Yeah?" asks Raven, perking up. "What kind of stuff?"

"Of course you're into weaponry," Clarke teases, and Raven sticks her tongue out.

"If liking swords is wrong, I don't want to be right."

"I want to hear too," says Ontari, which is even less of a surprise.

"I'm not actually an expert," Bellamy says. "I was just a kid with a pretty long Rome phase." He turns his attention to the closest camera. "That’s for everyone. I don't want people on twitter coming at me for acting like I'm some expert and getting basic facts wrong. I'm an enthusiastic amateur."

Clarke kisses his shoulder. "You don’t even have twitter. You'll be fine. Tell us about the weapons."

"Okay, I think the coolest would be if we got to use nets," he says, and in no time, everyone is gathered around, listening to his impromptu history lesson.

So in a way, they're already winning.

Even Anya seems a little sad when she has to stop him so they can go to the arena. He leans down to kiss Clarke before he goes, this casual affection that really is going to be hard to let go of once they're off the show. At least he wants to keep cuddling. That's probably enough; she's not _always_ going to want to kiss him.

Probably.

"How was last night?" Gaia asks Clarke, once the guys are gone. Clarke didn't take her for a gossip, but she was expecting _someone_ to ask. "Where did you guys go?"

"If I tell you, we have to find somewhere else." 

"So you're doing it again," says Maya, and Clarke shrugs. 

"I assume everyone here knows sex is fun."

"Yeah, but it still seems like too much work," Raven says. "At least while we're here. Like Maya said, I can wait until we get home and aren't worrying about whether or not they're going to put us hooking up on TV."

On the one hand, Clarke really is trying to not get too invested in the whole thing, and trying not to be a jerk. On the other, she's not made of stone, and opportunities were made to be seized. "Well, maybe if Roan ever wins a challenge, you'll understand how hard that is to resist."

Raven's jaw drops, but she's grinning too. "Oh, so it's like that, huh? We're doing trash talk now?" She frowns. "I was going to call you by your last name, but I don't actually know it. Tell me your last name so we can do another take."

It's so perfectly representative of the whole experience that Clarke starts laughing again, and Raven does too, and once they've recovered, she manages, "Griffin. Clarke Griffin."

"Raven Reyes. You good for another take?" she asks their current camera guy, one Clarke doesn't know, and he nods. "Okay, uh--"

"It's like that," Clarke supplies.

"Right. It's like that, huh? We're doing trash talk now, Griffin?"

"I'm just saying, maybe you'll get it if Roan ever gets a win under his belt. If wore pants enough to need a belt.”

Raven cracks up again, and Clarke does too, and that's kind of it for any attempts at being serious. There's more wine on the table and the sun is out; day-drinking until Murphy shows up to tell them what to do is really the only option.

"Ladies," he says.

"Ladies," says Maya, in a voice that sounds more like Cookie Monster than Sir Mix-a-Lot, "if you want to ride in my Mercedes--"

"We are not paying for the rights to that song, don't sing it. Looks like you guys are having a good morning."

"Awesome," Raven agrees. "You want some wine, Ioannes?"

"No thanks, I'm high on the real thing. Come on, you're drunk enough for today's challenge."

"Is the real thing actually life or pot?" Raven asks.

"Can't it be life _and_ pot?" says Mel.

"Both is good," Clarke agrees, and Maya elbows her.

"Of course _you'd_ say that."

There isn't even a trace of tension in her expression, to Clarke's surprise; it seems to be a completely benign bisexuality joke, and she finds herself grinning at Maya without reservation. It's a pretty good group, really. They're all cool.

That confidence lasts until Murphy actually explains the next challenge, at which point it starts feeling a little awkward.

When they first arrive, she's actually fairly optimistic. They're in the same area they were yesterday, but the grapes and barrels are gone, replaced with art supplies everywhere. Clarke assumes they're going to engage in the ancient (B)roman art of paint and sip, which is right up her alley, but Murphy has other plans.

"Now, as I'm sure you all know, ancient Rome was the cradle of civilization. It wasn't all wine and fighting, there was also plenty of culture to go around. So we want you to contribute to the culture with some nice--" His pause is deliberate, and Clarke gets a sinking feeling. "Busts. Today you’ll be making sculptures of your, uh--assets."

"Do you know what a bust actually is?" Clarke asks. "There's a specific definition."

"You and Bellamy deserve each other," he says, which is actually very sweet. "Fine, you're not making bust busts, but we're going to have you mold a body part."

"So it doesn't have to be boobs," says Raven.

Murphy shrugs. "Yeah, I mean, whatever you want to sculpt, officially, but unofficially, this is all about the T&A."

"We'd like to get mostly--titillating body parts," Anya confirms.

Murphy smirks. "I'm stealing titillating for later. So yeah, get in pairs, pick a body part, and your partner's going to rub you down and pour plaster on you. This is completely a ratings stunt, so just lean into it. There’s wine everywhere, have fun.”

It's one of those queer-girl nightmares, like the first time Clarke went into the locker room after she came out in high school. It didn't actually go badly, but there was this horrible minute when she was sure everyone was looking at her and no one wanted her there, that she had become a predator in their eyes.

The moment is even shorter here than it was then; Raven takes her arm and says, "Come on, I want to do my ass."

"Yes, if we can have one ass and one boob per group, that would be great," Anya says, and Raven snorts.

"So much for reality. You were going to do your boobs anyway, right?" she adds, to Clarke. "I would if I were you."

Clarke looks down at herself. "Yeah, definitely. I always wanted to make a statue of my boobs on TV."

"You knew what was in your contract," Raven says with a shrug. "I'll go first."

If they were alone, it might be a problem. Raven is gorgeous, and she has an amazing ass, and Clarke has to rub oil on it before she can pour the plaster, and it's not like she _actually_ has a boyfriend. And even if she did, he'd understand. Only a saint wouldn't be into this.

Luckily, there are cameras everywhere, and the sound of everyone else's chatter, and it's easy to not get overcome with lust. Everything is in good fun.

Once she's got Raven's ass sufficiently slick, she gets the plaster and just pours it on, making Raven yelp, and pats it down with her hands, making sure the coverage is there. It's not exactly on the level of any of her art classes in college, but it's still fun.

"Always said I was a work of art," says Raven, once Clarke gets the mold off. "Your turn."

It's somehow a lot more embarrassing to take her top off here, even though there's not much objective different between showing her breasts in front of a camera at the villa and one in town. It still _feels_ more public. And, of course, this is footage they'll definitely use, but they won't be able to show anything. And it's not like Raven hasn't seen her topless plenty, by this point.

"Damn," she says. "Yeah, definitely your boobs. Lie down."

The entire plastering process is definitely more awkward from this side--she has sensitive breasts, it's not her fault--but Raven keeps up a steady stream of casual conversation, distracting her from the actual sensation of hands on skin.

No matter how this show turns out, she's definitely keeping Raven. She'll think the whole fake-dating thing is _hilarious_ , when she finds out.

The plaster is cool enough and wet enough that's it's the equivalent of a cold shower on just her breasts, and by the time they've got the molds done and setting Clarke is fairly sober and no longer that turned on, which is where she wants to be with her life on _Bromans_. At least when Bellamy's not around to make sure her sobriety isn't an issue.

And, granted, they get a little tipsy while they're waiting for the plaster to harden, but she's not _that_ tipsy. It's fine. And she's just as glad to be somewhat drunk for the reveal of her breast statue. Not that it looks bad or anything--it looks awesome, if she does say so herself--but it's still _weird_ to see her own torso in a lineup of disembodied body parts.

"Now I know what a serial killer's basement looks like," says Ontari, dry as sand, and Murphy shrugs.

"Apparently this sells. All right, are you ready for the guys?"

"The guys?" Clarke asks, voice coming out as a squeak. No one seems to think it's weird that she's freaked out, but she still feels like she has to add, "Don't tell me this is part of a challenge."

"Seeing how well they know you," says Murphy. "They're going to have to find the right body parts."

"Speaking of serial killer lines," Mel mutters.

"Yeah, I know. Whatever. Go drink some more wine, see how well your boyfriends would do identifying your body parts in a serial killer's lair. It'll be fun."

The first reaction _is_ fun, Clarke has to admit, a nice counterpoint to the first moment she and the other girlfriends saw the gladiators naked at the beginning of the show. There's laughter and gasping, and Sterling wolf-whistles. Clarke catches Bellamy's eye and smirks, and he shakes his head, amused in spite of himself.

"Welcome, gladiators. As you can see, your girlfriends spent the afternoon getting in touch with--" Another deliberate pause from Murphy. He really is the best man for this job. "Their artistic sides," he says. "I assume everyone sees something that looks familiar."

"Oh yeah," says Jasper, to general laughter.

"Great. Would you like to go first?"

It's rare to actually see the blood drain from someone's face, but Jasper's does, his already pale skin going paler in sheer panic. "What?"

"You know your girlfriends pretty well, right?" says Murphy. "You can definitely figure out who's whom--"

"I swear to god--" says Bellamy, and Murphy smirks.

"Dude, just be happy I didn't say whom's whom, I thought about it. Anyway, yeah. You can work as a group, so don't embarrass yourselves and all pick the same one."

"Seriously?" asks Ilian.

"Seriously," says Murphy. "Get going."

For a second, all of them are frozen, and Clarke can practically see them doing the calculations in their heads, thinking about just how much trouble they'll get in if they get this one _wrong_. 

Not surprisingly, Bellamy's the one to take charge. "Okay," he says. "We've got three chests and three, uh--backs. I'm pretty sure Clarke did chest, so I'm down to three options. Anyone else have strong opinions?"

It turns out all they needed was someone to break the ice. Sterling offers, hesitantly, that he's pretty sure he recognizes Mel's, and Roan goes over to Raven's without even commenting. 

Bellamy follows suit and picks Clarke's, and she can't deny the small thrill of giddy happiness that races through her. _Breast identification_ isn't exactly romantic, but it's still better than him getting it wrong.

The rest of the guys have a short consultation and get themselves lined up, and Murphy insists on going through each one, verifying that they got it right. Bellamy and Dax are the last two, so as soon as Clarke confirms Bellamy's right, it's obvious everyone figured it out, and there's a lot of hugging and high-fiving and kissing.

Honestly, Clarke can't remember the last time she kissed _anyone_ this much in a week-long period. It's kind of great.

"Good job finding my boobs," she teases, as they head back to the villa.

Bellamy kisses her temple, adding one more to the count. "No problem."

*

The next challenge is, to put it mildly, not Bellamy's strong suit.

"Shit," he mutters, and drops his head on her shoulder.

It had been a pretty good day, up until this point. The challenge didn't involve as much prepwork as some of the others, so they were allowed to sleep in a little and have a leisurely breakfast. Clarke was feeling well-rested, content, and ready to cheer her heart out, but as soon as Lincoln said, "Wrestling," her heart plummeted.

In fairness, it's less that she thinks Bellamy is _bad_ at wrestling and more that she thinks everyone else, Jasper aside, is better at it. Most of them do some sort of martial arts as part of their workout routine, while Bellamy's hand-to-hand combat experience is best described as "lost a lot of fistfights in high school."

"I believe in you," she tells him, and he snorts.

"Thanks, that helps."

"If they take past performance into account, you're not going to get banished for losing one fight."

"Better."

"Maybe you'll get to fight Jasper."

"Maybe I'm secretly good at fighting," says Jasper.

"It's a really well kept secret," says Maya.

"All I've got going for me is the element of surprise, please let me keep it.”

"Quiet," says Anya. "Legatus, do you have the matchups?"

Lincoln is studying a clipboard, because he takes this very seriously. "First is Ilian versus Jasper, then Roan versus Sterling, and Bellamy versus Dax." Bellamy winces, and Clarke does too. Dax is hardcore. 

"All right," says Anya. "Ilian and Jasper, get down there. Strip down to just the underwear, as usual. Once you're situated, Legatus will give you some more instruction for the camera. Gaia, Maya, be ready to join them."

The girls exchange a look, but it's not like it’s a particularly weird request. They were involved in the first challenge, why wouldn’t they be involved in the third?

"Maybe it's tag-team," Bellamy muses. "You could take Dax, right?"

"Definitely."

"Maybe both of you together," says Dax. It doesn't quite come off as a joke from him; Clarke would feel better if Bellamy was fighting anyone else, honestly.

"Before we start, there is one other thing," Lincoln says. "I heard the ladies did some art the other day. They seem to be quite handy with oil. I thought they could help you get ready."

"Oh my god," says Clarke.

"But I don't want anyone getting _too_ excited," Lincoln goes on. "So you'll be helping out your boyfriend's opponents. Gaia, Maya?" The two women step forward, and Lincoln nods. "Please take the oil and get Jasper and Ilian nice and greasy."

The two of them take to the task with good humor, laughing a lot and making appropriately impressed noises at various parts of the guys' anatomies, and then they scamper back to the stands to watch. Everyone is together for this one, which Clarke appreciates. It’s nice to be able to lean against Bellamy, for all she’s fretting too.

Jasper and Ilian are better matched than Clarke would have expected, but when Jasper actually manages to trip Ilian our of the rin, he seems as surprised as anyone. Lincoln declares him the winner and Maya rushes in for a kiss, while Gaia goes to fret over Ilian. All four of them return to the stands as Roan, Raven, Sterling, and Mel head down. Clarke has more trouble paying attention to this match, all her focus on the ways Bellamy’s could turn out, all the bad things that might be coming for him.

She honestly doesn’t care about winning, but she doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Roan takes Sterling out in short order, they get the requisite winner/loser footage, and then it’s their turn.

“I’m not going to die on _Bromans_ ,” Bellamy teases, gentle. He rests his forehead on hers. “Seriously, Clarke. It’s fine. If we get kicked off, it’s not like _you_ lost, so—“

“Just don’t get hurt,” she says, and kisses him before she goes to oil up Dax.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go for his face or anything,” Dax says. For all his bravado, Clarke can tell he’s on edge, tense and nervous. He can act like this is going to be a bloodbath all he wants, but he’s still scared of Bellamy.

Which he should be. Clarke’s worried, but she’s not writing him off.

“Begin!” says Lincoln.

Unlike the blindfold challenge, there’s no delay, no strategizing. The two of them charge toward each other and collide with an audible _thunk_. Bellamy’s keeping his center of gravity low, fighting smart, but the knot in Clarke’s stomach is only getting tighter. It’s so irrational, to be worrying this much. Nothing bad is going to happen. No one does on _Bromans_.

She'll still feel better when it's over. And even better if Bellamy pulls the win.

The end comes abruptly, without too much fanfare. Bellamy isn't obviously losing or anything, and Clarke's not even sure Dax realizes the win is coming. All he seems to want to do is knock Bellamy down, but they’re closer to the edge than she thinks either of them realized, and Bellamy tumbles down and out of the ring.

Clarke rushes down as soon as Lincoln's declared the winner, kneeling down next to Bellamy and checking for bruises.

"Seriously, I didn't go to war," he says. "I feel like you could have seen this coming. We're on a TV show where I fight people."

"Everyone knows reality TV is fake."

"I’m fine, I promise. Honestly, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Good, you can tell the camera that when they ask." She brushes his hair off his forehead. "You did really well."

"Thanks. I would have done way better if they let me use a net."

Miller's the one to do their interview; at this point, he seems to be Bellamy's assigned camera man. She can't tell if it's official or if Bellamy is just his favorite.

"Tough loss."

Bellamy shrugs. "I'm not great at hand-to-hand combat. Dax wrestled in high school and apparently still does. It was always going to be an uphill battle for me."

"We really could have prepped for this better," Clarke says.

"What, like me learning to fight before I went on a reality TV show about fighting? Let’s not get carried away here.”

"Yeah, you're right, that wouldn't have worked."

"Are you worried about banishment tonight?"

Bellamy rubs the back of his neck. "Obviously, yeah. This is my first time on the losing side, and that means I might be up for banishment."

"On the bright side, you look really good in the gold underwear," Clarke says, and he laughs.

"So I'll be going out in style."

"Exactly."

He's not obviously fretting during dinner, chatting and laughing, joking around about his own banishment. Sterling's a lot more nervous; he was up for banishment last time, and Ilian and Bellamy haven't been yet. It feels like his time.

Bellamy has other ideas, though. "They get to vote," he points out, once they're alone. "And, uh, no offense to Sterling and Ilian, but they haven't been doing as well as I have. If it was me, and I could vote off Roan or Sterling--"

"You'd keep Roan," Clarke says, smiling. "You like Roan."

"Yeah," he admits, grudging. "But I wouldn’t expect anyone else to do it.”

"Honestly, it's not really a high-stakes environment. I don't think they're going to vote you out just to get ahead."

"Maybe. I wouldn't blame them if they did." 

Clarke reaches up to rearrange his hair, getting it a little more in order. "I know I said we were going to win, but I'm not going to be mad if we don't. It's been fun, and if we lose, at least you picked my breasts out of a lineup first."

He snorts. "Yeah, that's the important thing." His eyes flick over her, gaze heavy. "I'm not ready to leave yet."

"Me neither. But I don't think we will."

*

Thankfully, Murphy opens with, "Whom is going home today?" which gives Bellamy something to do other than fret about the actual banishment.

"Are you actually checking to make sure you shouldn't be using whom in these sentences?"

"Yeah, I don't want to use it right by mistake.” He turns his attention to the group as a whole. “Good evening, gladiators," he says, clapping his hands. "I know it was a long day today. Battles were won and lost, and once again, for one of you, all roads lead to home." He pauses, frowns when Clarke doesn't crack up. "Wow, you're really nervous, huh?"

"Honestly, I think you need another line. I’m getting used to that one.”

"I'll work on it. Today's challenge brought several unexpected results. Jasper, Roan, Dax," he says. "Congratulations. The emperor is impressed with your skills." 

Lincoln takes over. "Ilian, Stering, Bellamy. The three of you were disappointing.” He looks at each of them in turn. “Ilian, we thought this was your challenge to shine. With your experience, you should have soared, but instead you crashed and burned. Sterling, you have failed to distinguish yourself at every turn. Near-banishment should be a wake up call, but you continue to bore us. And Bellamy.” 

Bellamy raises his chin, proud, and Clarke has to wonder if this is weird for Lincoln. If Bellamy gets kicked off this episode, Octavia is going to have words for her boyfriend.

“We’ve been impressed with you, but you faltered in training yesterday and in the challenge today. We can’t help wondering if your beginner’s luck has run out.”

“Ilian,” says Murphy. “Bellamy. Come on down.”

Bellamy snorts, and Anya says, “Try another line, Morpheus.”

“Just trying to cut the tension. Ilian, Bellamy, step forward.”

They take their places in front of the torches, and Ilian gets the chance to speak first.

“Today wasn’t my best day. It might have been Jasper’s,” he adds, and that gets a laugh. “But it wasn’t mine. I know I have more to offer and more to do here. I hope you’ll give me the chance to show you how strong I can be. But no matter what, this has been amazing. If I leave, I leave with my head high.”

“Wow, that’s basically exactly what I was going to say,” says Bellamy, when the clapping has stopped. But then he rubs the back of his neck, sobers a little. “It feels a little weird to say this, given how much I’ve been nitpicking, but this is kind of a dream come true for me. I was that dorky kid who ran around the park with a cardboard sword, pretending he was Achilles. Being here, getting to do all this stuff—it’s really amazing. I’m not ready to let it go yet, so I hope you’ll let me keep doing this with you. Thanks.”

No one seems to have expected that level of earnest honesty, and there’s a slight pause before Murphy says, “Okay, yeah. Citizens, discuss among yourselves.”

“For the record, we’re not citizens,” Bellamy says. “That’s kind of the point.”

“And he’s back. Non-citizens, pick who you want to stay.”

It’s a little awkward, not being involved in this decision. Clarke doesn’t get to stand with Bellamy until the others move up, so she and Gaia are just hanging back, powerless as the others make their choices.

But when she goes to join him, she’s following the crowd. Dax and Ontari go to Ilian, but everyone else wants Bellamy to stay, and it’s actually a little emotional. The banishment stress sucks, but he’s always going to have this memory of all these people supporting him and telling him they want him here.

It is rough for Ilian, though. As far as Clarke’s concerned, he doesn’t deserve to go either.

“Ilian,” Murphy starts, and then an extra runs up.

“Morpheus,” he says. “A message.”

Of course it’s all planned, but Clarke’s not in on it, so it’s still stressful. The extra takes Murphy and Lincoln aside to tell them whatever he’s telling them, and once he leaves, the two of them consult in private for a moment.

“You should consider yourselves lucky,” Lincoln says.

Murphy nods. “The emperor has intervened. There will be no banishment tonight.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in, and then all twelve of them explode in happiness. Ilian and Gaia hug, and then Ilian and Bellamy, and then they’re all surrounding Ilian, telling him how glad they are he can stay.

There might be something to the trial-by-fire nature of reality TV friendships after all.

“I wouldn’t celebrate too much,” Lincoln says. “There will still be consequences for this, Ilian, Bellamy.”

Clarke frowns. “Why are there consequences for _Bellamy_? No one else has had consequences for not getting sent home. He didn’t do anything different from Jasper or Sterling.”

“Because it’s easier for us this way,” says Murphy. “But hey, you’re all safe tonight. What’s _eat, drink, and be merry_ in Latin?”

“Carpe diem,” Bellamy supplies.

“More emphasis on drinking.”

That takes a little longer, but he settles on, “Nunc est bibendum.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Dismissed.”

“What’s _nunc est bibendum_?” Clarke asks as they walk back to the villa.

“ _Now is for drinking_ ,” he says. He’s still a little tense, coming down from adrenaline, eyes darting around like he’s expecting someone to jump out and send him home.

She squeezes his hand. “Yeah, that sounds like exactly what now is for. Let’s go.”


	5. Episode 4

Thanks to the banishment scare, it's the first night Bellamy actually wants to drink, so Clarke figures she can be the sober friend who makes sure he doesn’t do anything stupid on TV for a change. He’s past due for a night of fun and relaxation.

“What I don’t get,” says Jasper, gesturing with his cup of wine, “is why it feels more stressful that someone _didn’t_ get sent home. No offense, Ilian! I’m glad you’re sticking around. But this is a weird vibe.”

“No argument here,” says Ilian. 

“I think this is going to have to happen more often,” Raven offers. When everyone turns to her, she shrugs. “I don’t think we can be going down to just final two for the emperor’s games. That’s not a lot of people for a big fight. Three would be awkward, so—eight episodes to get to four people. They can’t get rid of someone every time if they want that to happen.”

"Final four makes sense, yeah," Bellamy agrees. He takes a gulp of wine and turns to Miller. "Any insight from you?"

There aren't many other crew members around, so if Miller was ever going to give out privileged information, now would seem to be the time. But all he says is, "You're my favorite, I'm glad you didn't go home."

Bellamy puckers his lips in Miller's general direction, and Mel says, "That's what I'd have trouble with."

"Yeah, I don't think he should play favorites either," Bellamy says. "Very questionable."

"Got it," says Miller. "You're not my favorite anymore."

Mel giggles. "Not that. Just--I know Sterling's not, like, into any of his guy friends. So when he jokes around with them I don't get jealous or anything. Isn't that hard, Clarke?"

Clarke blinks. It had never even occurred to her to be jealous of Miller, and she's not sure how to process the question right now. "No?" 

"Bisexual people have friends," says Maya. "And pansexual people. Jasper's best friend is bi, but I've never been jealous of him. I know it's not like that. If Sterling's best friend was a girl, would you be jealous all the time?"

"No. I'm just trying to get it!" she says. "I don't want to be shitty, it just sounds, you know, hard."

"I trust Bellamy," Clarke says. "If he wanted to be with someone else, he wouldn't be with me."

Bellamy kisses her shoulder. "Thanks. If I didn't have you, I'd totally ask for Miller's number, though."

"Damn," says Miller. "I was really hoping."

It’s Dax who says, “Wait, but really?” Almost everyone turns to glare, Ontari included, which is nice. It feels like everyone is on her side. 

Dax holds up his hands. “Dude, I don’t care. I just didn’t know the camera dude was into guys.”

“I am, but don’t worry, I’m not into you,” says Miller. 

Clarke doesn’t want to be jealous, and she’s not, exactly. It’s not like Mel thinks it is, irrational jealousy because Bellamy would prefer to be with a guy, insecurity in their relationship.

It’s more that she and Bellamy _aren’t together_ , and there’s nothing stopping him from clearing that up once the show is done. If he wants Miller’s number, he can get it, no problem. And Miller is definitely Bellamy's type--hot, sarcastic, and taking no shit. 

The conversation moves on from there, but Clarke’s brain doesn’t quite. Miller's cool, and she likes him. It's been a while since Bellamy dated anyone. Before the show started, if anyone had asked her, Clarke would have said that she wanted him to find someone. As theoretical boyfriends go, Miller's a great one.

But Bellamy is too. And if he's going to be anyone's real boyfriend, Clarke would like him to be hers. It hadn't been feeling impossible, so far, but this is a stark reminder that they're _acting_. She's been getting a real crush on her fake boyfriend, and for all she knows, he's been off in his own story, flirting with his favorite camera man.

Which would be totally fine, obviously. If he were her boyfriend, she could be jealous. As it is, she has however much longer they're on the show to figure out what's happening and how to be happy for him, no matter what.

Bellamy half-drapes himself on her as they walk back, breath warm on her neck, and Clarke ruffles his hair, the kind of affection that would have always been okay. This is normal for him.

So she's probably been in love with him for a long time.

"Can you get your contacts out?" 

He kisses her cheek, nearly hitting her mouth but not quite. "I'm not that drunk."

"Sure you're not."

"I can also take my contacts out when I'm drunk."

"Let me get your mic off first," she says, reaching up to unhook it, and his smile is crooked as he watches her.

"You're the best."

"You're drunk." She takes her own mic off and smooths his hair off his forehead. Even if he wants to go out with Miller, he still likes casual affection. And there are still cameras around. "How are you feeling?"

"We're still here, I'm good. I just have to rock all the other challenges."

"Which you will. Go take your contacts out, I want to go to sleep."

They were allowed to bring books for their time off camera, so she settles into bed with the trashy thriller she bought at the airport, waiting to make sure Bellamy makes it back okay. Like he said, he isn't _that_ drunk, but he also doesn't drink very often, and if he falls over and hurts himself, it will be the saddest way ever to get kicked off of a reality TV show.

Instead, he collapses into bed next to her with something of a thud, but he seems happy enough.

"Thanks for doing this with me."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I feel like it's more fun for me than it is for you."

She has to smile. "Really? Because I just get to do stupid stuff and drink wine pretty much all the time. You're the one working out and fighting people."

"Yeah, but I know it's stressful for you. All you did today was worry."

"In a fun way. I'm glad we're here, Bellamy. You're not the only one having a good time."

"Okay." He rolls over, draping himself over her like a blanket, his hair tickling her nose. "Still, thanks."

"You're welcome. Get some sleep, tomorrow's probably going to suck. Lincoln's putting you through the paces."

"Legatus," he murmurs, already falling asleep. "I'll be fine."

Clarke pets his curls, tries not to let it hurt. "Yeah, you've got this."

*

They all have ideas for what kind of punishment might be waiting for Bellamy and Ilian in the morning. Given the show's general interests and themes, some kind of physical challenge seems most likely, possibly a head-to-head where they're both lifting weights or throwing things. Raven suggests they might have to wrestle again, which Clarke isn't excited about but can't deny seems likely, while Gaia thinks Lincoln will just be extra tough on them during training.

Instead, Murphy shows up and says, "Hey Bellamy, what's the Latin word for jail?"

"I don't actually remember every Latin word," he says.

"Oh well, that's where you're going. The emperor thinks the two of you need a reality check, so you'll be spending the day in lockup."

"Lockup?" asks Gaia. "What does that mean?"

"It means whoever built this place put a jail cell in, so we might as well use it. Come on."

It seems kind of boring, as far as Clarke's concerned. Unless there's something weird about the jail, it's not exactly television gold, and taking out two of the gladiators means there won't be as much going on.

But Murphy seems to be serious, so apparently they're doing this. Gaia kisses Ilian, so Clarke kisses Bellamy too, and the guys follow Murphy away.

"Any opinions?" Miller asks.

"You're not going after them?"

"They've got a stationary camera in there," he says, with a shrug. "If the producers want interviews, they'll just ask themselves. Come on, I know you're pissed."

"No one else has been punished for being in the bottom and not going home," she says. "It's bullshit that either of them has to go to jail, but especially Bellamy. And pretty dull, honestly? Are we going to see Ilian playing harmonica?"

Miller smirks. "Trust me, they're going to keep it interesting."

She's grumpy enough that she kind of wants to pick a fight with him for the vagueness, but it's not really his fault. Of course he knows more about what's coming than she does; it's his job. She just kind of wants to punch someone, and he's right here and she's still feeling vaguely resentful about Bellamy potentially being into him.

Before she can do anything stupid, Lincoln shows up and says, "I believe I've lost two of my fighters."

"They're just in jail," Raven says. "You could grab them."

"I don't need to. I have their replacements right here. Clarke, Gaia, you will be taking your boyfriends' places in the training today. Are you ready?"

Clarke and Gaia exchange a look, and Gaia shrugs slightly.

"I guess so," says Clarke.

"Excuse me?" says Lincoln, and she remembers he's supposed to be intimidating and commanding, and not a guy she's seen cry because he just loves Whitney Houston _so much_.

"Yes, sir!" she says, and he nods.

"Better. Gladiators, follow me."

Bellamy's told Clarke the basics of their usual training. There's a good deal of standard gym stuff--push-ups, pull-ups, weights--and they do that for a warmup before a challenge in the afternoon. 

_Warmup_ , as it turns out, is something of a misnomer, as far as Clarke's concerned. A warmup, to her, is quick and easy. They have a real warmup, where Lincoln leads them through stretches, but the actual working out sucks. The big issue is, of course, that they want footage, which means that they need a lot of shots of them a lot of things. They'll tell everyone what to do for a certain period of time, and there will be individual scenes, but even when Clarke's not the focus, she needs to be making it look real in the background. If something goes wrong, they have to redo whatever they were doing, and by the time they're breaking for lunch, she's genuinely tired. She hits the gym a couple times a week, but being outside in the sun is a lot.

Still, it could be worse. The other gladiators, especially Roan and Jasper, look out for them, giving them tips on what to do and how to stay hydrated and healthy.

And Lincoln does his best too, of course. He sits down next to her and Gaia as they rest, offers a jug of water. "Drink," he says. "How are you two doing?"

If she didn't know him, she'd probably bristle, think he was only worrying because they're women, but this is _Lincoln_. They're new at this, of course he's worried.

"Tired," says Gaia.

"Still want to punch someone."

His smile is the closest she's seen him come to dropping character. "I'd prefer you didn't, but I understand the impulse. You have an hour to eat and rest, and then you'll be competing against each other in a head-to-head."

"Are you always nice during breaks?" Gaia asks, sounding wary.

"He is," Roan confirms. "He doesn't actually want any of us to hurt ourselves. I'm sure there are liability issues."

"I know this is your first time doing this, I just want to make sure you're feeling comfortable," Lincoln goes on. "We don't want you to injure yourselves later, any more than we want any of the men too. But they know to tell me if they're struggling."

"What would you do if we said no?" Clarke asks.

"Talk you through it and try to find a solution."

"Will you tell us what the challenge is?"

He smiles. "No. But I think you'll be fine."

"I don't want Clarke to punch me," Gaia offers.

She's clearly teasing, so Clarke smiles too. "Then you just have to win."

After food and rest, Clarke's feeling a little better about her life. There's still the background anxiety about how Bellamy's doing, but it's not like reality-TV jail is going to be some nightmare. At worst, he's probably just bored, but he has Ilian to talk to, and they probably even gave him a book. _Bromans_ doesn't seem like a sadistic enough show to force anyone to spend hours in near-solitary confinement.

Still, she'll feel better when he's out, and if the way she gets him out is beating Gaia in some competition, she's going to kick her ass.

To her surprise, Lincoln doesn't take them back to the training grounds, but in a different direction, somewhere they've never been before. They meet the rest of the group--minus Bellamy and Ilian, obviously--outside of a door, and Anya gives them a quick introduction.

"This is the cesspit."

"Sounds comfy," says Raven.

"You should act like it's much worse than it is. It's supposed to be a stinking swamp, but it's just water. The color isn't from anything harmful and it tastes like regular water, but we'd like reaction shots of you covering your noses and looking as if it's the worst thing you've ever smelled."

The place does _look_ gross, with cloudy, slightly greenish water and some moss and dirt all around, but it smells more like a pool than a swamp. They make a contest out of who can look the most disgusted at the fake grossness, and once Anya's satisfied, she briefs them on the challenge.

"On the side of the cesspit, there will be three sand bags. You see the two podiums in the middle of the water? You'll start on one of those. Your task is to bring two sandbags back to your station. With only three sandbags, this isn't just a matter of speed--only one of you _can_ win. If your opponent gets it first, you'll have to get it from them."

Anya might really believe it's not just a race, but as Clarke watches the other matchups, she doesn't think that's right. Speed isn't _everything_ , but neither Dax nor Jasper is able to wrestle the bag away from their opponent once they have it. They manage to slow Roan and Sterling down a little, but they still lose. The first person to get the second bag wins both times, and it never even feels that close.

"Last up," says Lincoln. "Clarke and Gaia."

The water is fairly warm and comes up to around Clarke's ribs when she's standing, so getting to the podium is slow. Once they're up, there are camera checks to do, and Anya has to make sure they understand the rules, even though they've been explained _every single time_. But then she's satisfied, and Lincoln barks, "Begin!"

Gaia is, apparently, a good swimmer. Not so much better than Clarke that her lead is huge, but she gets to the sand bags first and is already leaving with hers as Clarke arrives, which puts her in a bad position. On the one hand, she's bigger than Gaia, and she could probably win a straight fight, but she's not sure she could wrestle the sand bag away from her. And for all she said she wanted to punch someone, she doesn't want to punch _Gaia_. She's nice.

The thoughts race through her mind, and it only takes her a second to make the decision: she grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder, picks up the second bag in one arm, and starts hustling back to her podium as quickly as possible.

There are gasps from the crowd; Gaia clearly can tell something happened, but she doesn't want to look around to see what. With any luck, Clarke will be too far ahead of her before she realizes what's happening, but even if she's not, it's too late to change her mind. All she can do is move forward.

The bags are heavy, heavy enough that carrying two is uncomfortable, but Clarke just keeps telling herself that she doesn't have to do it for much longer, that all she has to do is _get there_ , and as long as she does that before Gaia can catch her, she'll win. She only has to do this once. It's fine. She just has to go a little farther.

To her relief, Gaia drops her bag and immediately starts swimming back to the edge of the pool, not realizing that there's nothing waiting for her. Gaia's swimming is faster than Clarke's awkward half run, so she'll find out soon enough, but she's so _close_.

She hears Gaia yell, "Fuck!" right as she slaps the first bag onto her podium, and then she gets the second up and lets herself slump, panting, against the block, a grin taking over her face.

"I win."

*

Anya is upset, to put it mildly, but Lincoln and Murphy are both on Clarke's side.

"You didn't say she couldn't take both the bags," Murphy says, with a shrug. "And those things are heavy. If she dragged both of them and still won, she deserves it."

"We can clarify in future challenges that bags must be carried one at a time," Lincoln says. "But I'm with John. Clarke didn't do anything wrong. She followed the rules and won the challenge fair and square."

Anya's jaw twitches, but Clarke stays quiet. There's no real point in her arguing her case unless they ask; it's their show and their rules. Anya is just pissed that she gamed the system, which Clarke respects. She'd be annoyed if she were in Anya's place. "Fine. She can go get her boyfriend out. We'll update the rules for next time." She looks at Clarke, and then nods once. "Good job."

Lincoln's the one to walk her to the jail.

"How's it going?" he asks. "Really."

"Really?"

"No cameras, and they won't use any of this footage. How are you doing?"

"It's been pretty fun, honestly. Octavia's going to be so smug."

He smiles. "She's been asking me for updates, obviously."

"What are you telling her?"

"That I have an NDA and can't tell her anything about how any competitors are doing, but I love her very much."

"I'm sure she's very understanding."

"She has no one to blame but herself." He puts his arm around her and gives her a squeeze. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Until Bellamy got thrown in jail. How bad is it?"

"The jail is connected to a room with a sofa, a TV, books, and food. They probably had a better day than you did. But he's been told to act as if it was a harrowing experience."

Clarke has to smile. "You know, reality TV is both a lot realer and a lot faker than I thought it would be."

Lincoln smiles too. "That sounds about right."

He leaves before she gets to Bellamy, but Monroe is there to let him out and to give them feedback on the reunion, which has to be dramatic for reasons Clarke's not totally clear on. It's been less than five hours; they're apart for longer than this every day when they go to work.

But she hugs him, and kisses him, and they walk back to the villa hand-in-hand to find that the producers have gifted them with a lot of booze.

"It's a party!" says Maya. 

"Any particular reason?" Bellamy asks, sounding wary.

"So we'll get wasted and start fights, probably," says Raven. She shoves shot glasses at both of them. "Welcome back. How was it being on the inside?"

"I'm forever changed."

"When are they letting Ilian out?"

He downs the shot. "I assume in like ten minutes, but they want to make it look like he's in solitary. We were watching _Parks and Rec_ on Netflix."

"Awesome. Did Clarke tell you Anya nearly banished her?"

"If that's how we went out, I would have been fine with it."

"You would have been all over social media saying it was bullshit that they kicked me off for taking advantage of a loophole."

"Oh, yeah, obviously. But I would have been on your side."

"You're always on my side."

As Bellamy predicted, Ilian's back as soon as they have sufficient footage of people having a good time without him, but Clarke actually finds herself kind of boozed out. She and Bellamy nurse drinks, and when the crew start wandering off and everyone else is busy getting wasted, they lose their mics and sneak off again.

"I wish I could have seen you doing the challenge," Bellamy says. "Anya must have been so fucking pissed."

Clarke shrugs. "She's the one who left a loophole."

"I'm glad you did that one, I don't know if I would have thought of taking both the bags."

"You would have if you were watching. Every time, whoever got the second bag first won. I knew she was going to get there before I did, and I wouldn't be able to get it away from her. So I needed another plan."

"Yeah, I really wish I could have seen that."

"I wasn't going to lose and get you kicked out."

“My hero.” He looks up at the stars. “Do you just want to walk around for a while? I kind of want to look around more.”

“Check out the sights?”

“They put an actual budget into this. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

“That sounds nice, yeah.”

There are a few people still around, security guards and the like, but they don’t seem to have a problem with Clarke and Bellamy wandering around. The assumption seems to be that they’re looking for a place to hook up, and their only comment is “not here.” Which means they have pretty much free rein to wander around, checking out interesting nooks and seeing what the buildings are made out of.

"If this is the closest I get to going to Rome, I could live with that," Bellamy says, tracing the curve of a column.

"How much is the prize money again?"

"Ten thousand."

"If we win, we should go to Italy. I know you want to do something responsible with the money, but honestly, I think that would be a betrayal of the entire Broman experience."

"I guess it's basically bonus money."

"And we need to share it, so we should put it to good use."

"That would be really fun," he says. "Now we just have to win."

"There's your motivation."

"Aside from being competitive and not wanting to let you down."

"You're not going to let me down, Bellamy. But if that helps motivate you, you can pretend you are. Just to get us to Rome."

He laughs. "Just for that, yeah. I'll see what I can do."

*

They all get to go to the arena together the next day, for which Clarke is grateful, and she's even more grateful when Anya lays out the challenge.

"You'll be working with your girlfriends on this one," she says. "Gladiators, you'll have a slingshot, and you'll be set up on a rotating platform. You and your girlfriend will spin the platform to refill ammo and avoid attacks. We're going to have you come up and get comfortable using the platforms first, but you won't be practicing with the slingshots. For those, you're on your own."

Clarke grins at Bellamy, giddy with excitement. "We get to do a team challenge."

"We get to do a team challenge," he agrees. "I'm not bad with a slingshot either."

"You've used a slingshot before?"

He shrugs. "I was a poor kid who thought weapons were cool. My mom couldn't buy me nerf guns or anything like that, but I had plenty of rubber bands and rocks.”

“It’s like your whole life has been leading to this.”

He snorts. “Weirdly enough, it seems like it kind of has been, yeah.”

Anya divides them into two groups and she and Lincoln do a quick demonstration of how the platforms work. All of the mechanisms are pretty simple, but Clarke’s glad to have the time to get comfortable with them. Once the actual combat starts, it’s going to be stressful, and she’d rather not be worrying about operations when she should be worrying about strategy.

“The ammo we’re using is fairly soft and shouldn’t hurt too much,” Anya explains, once everyone’s had a chance to get familiar with the platforms. “It’s coated in red powder, so it will leave marks where you’re hit. This will help us verify how many hits each team had, in case of a dispute. Hits against both team members count, so you’ll want to be careful. Any questions so far?” There aren’t any, so she nods. “Matchups will be Dax and Ontari versus Roan and Raven, Bellamy and Clarke versus Jasper and Maya, and Ilian and Gaia versus Sterling and Mel. First match, get ready, everyone else, in the stands.”

Given the people involved, Clarke is expecting an intense, furious battle, but it turns out neither Roan nor Dax knows anything about using slingshots. Roan has trouble figuring out exactly how much power he should use, undershooting and then overcompensating and launching a shot into the stands. Dax, meanwhile, has better power levels but worse aim, and it’s not the most ridiculous thing she’s seen on the show—that’s far too competitive a field—but no one can stop laughing. Even the competitors are cracking up a little; if one of them was doing well, it would be different, but with both of them completely bombing, there don’t seem to be any hard feelings.

Roan manages to actually score a single hit before time runs out, and the four of them get a standing ovation as they step down. Roan even takes a bow.

Anya just sighs. “Next group. Please do better.”

“Challenge accepted,” says Jasper, and they make their way down. As is customary, they strip down to their black bathing suits for the challenge itself, and Anya verifies again that they all know what they’re doing, which they do. Honestly, it's not _complicated_.

“Seriously, do better,” she says, and then they’re off.

As usual, as soon as the actual competition starts, Clarke enters a zone. She knows what her primary role is—moving the platform when Bellamy needs ammo—but that’s not all she can do. She’s the one who keeps her eye on Jasper while Bellamy is lining up his shots, the one who can use the platform to dodge as well as to refuel. The start of her friendship with Bellamy, when they stopped being antagonists and started being allies, was working together in an all-campus water balloon fight, and it’s always been a strength of theirs. Even when they didn’t like each other, they were a force to be reckoned with.

But Jasper is no slouch either. He’s probably also the kind of kid who played with slingshots, and while his aim isn’t as good as Bellamy’s, he’s still comfortable with it in a way that Roan and Dax weren’t. But Maya isn’t as good with the platform as Clarke, and she’s not as good at anticipating what Jasper needs.

Time loses basically all meaning, and when Lincoln calls, “Stop!” it takes a second for the word to penetrate her brain.

“We’re done,” Bellamy says, putting his hand on her arm to stop her. 

“I wasn’t counting hits.”

“Neither was I."

Lincoln was, of course, and he doesn't make them wait long. “Our winners are Bellamy and Clarke!”

Obviously, Clarke has kissed Bellamy before. So far on the show, she’s kissed him far more often than she ever thought she would. It’s familiar at this point, but it’s never been natural. At the back of her mind is always the knowledge that she's playing a role, and even when she _wants_ to kiss him, that role is an excuse and a shield. It lets her do what she wants, and she hasn't ever forgotten that.

But in that single moment of victory, she finally does. When she throws herself into Bellamy's arms and kisses him, it's not because they're on a TV show and that's what she's supposed to do. She doesn't remember they're on a TV show at all, if she's honest.

She just wants to kiss him.

He catches her, laughing, but when her mouth presses against his, the sound dies in his throat. His arms wrap around her and he kisses back, mouth so warm and perfect, and it's like something out of a movie, this perfect ending scene.

As soon as she thinks that, the spell is broken. Her self-consciousness floods back, and she remembers they _are_ in a movie, for all intents and purposes. This isn't real. 

She slides out of his arms, and he gives her a crooked half smile. "You're the most competitive person I've ever met."

"That was awesome, come on."

"It was." He leans in to kiss her again, like he's reminding her it's okay, but her heart is still racing. Clarke's always prided herself on being cool and in control of her emotions. She's not supposed to get carried away and kiss her best friend, especially when she's not even sure he _wants_ her kissing him. 

Clearly he doesn't mind, but at some point they're going to need to talk about this.

But right now, they're still on camera, and the show is moving on as Clarke's brain works overtime. 

"Get to the stands for the last match," Anya says. "We'll do interviews after we've seen the overall winner."

Clarke's still thrumming with adrenaline, and she has a little trouble sitting still as she watches Ilian and Sterling. They're not as bad as Roan and Dax were, but she doesn't think either of them is as good as Bellamy, and maybe not even as good as Jasper.

But mostly she's thinking about Bellamy's bare arm pressing against hers, the line of his jaw out of the corner of her eye, her stupid awareness of every inch of him. 

Seriously, he doesn't _have_ to be this close to naked. It's not necessary or helpful.

Ilian beats Sterling, and Lincoln and Anya tally up the results. They have Jasper and Maya come down to double-check points of impact, and as always, Clarke finds it vaguely surreal how seriously they take this. It's like the two of them and Murphy are working off completely different scripts.

"Results!" says Lincoln. "Gladiators, come forward."

"Come on, we helped," says Raven.

"You want credit for this?" Roan asks.

She pauses. "Clarke and Gaia might."

"Just gladiators, it's easier for the cameras," says Anya. "Lincoln?"

"Our winner, with seven hits: Bellamy!" There's cheering, and Bellamy does a little bow of his own. "Second place, Jasper, with four hits. Third, Ilian, three hits. Fourth, Roan, one hit. And Dax and Sterling scored no hits, putting them in last place."

"So the banishment tonight doesn't have a lot of suspense, huh," says Sterling.

"We will, as always, consult with the emperor," says Lincoln, straight-faced. "Once you're done with your post-challenge interviews, you're free until the banishment tonight. Dismissed."

It does not generally help Clarke's mental state that Miller offers Bellamy a fistbump when he sees him, or that they blow it up after. Not that it's some obscure, personal thing that just she and Bellamy do, but still. Bellamy might be into her, or he might have his own mini-romance on the side with his favorite camera man, or be completely uninterested in _anyone_ , right now. It's like her own personal side game, figuring it out, except it sucks.

"Congrats on another win," says Miller. "Good recovery."

"Clarke won her challenge," Bellamy says, with a shrug. "I wasn't going to let her down."

"And she had your back."

"She always has my back."

"Were you expecting Jasper to be that good with a slingshot?"

Bellamy snorts. "No, but as soon as I thought about it, I wasn't surprised. But he must be pissed. If he'd gone up against anyone else he would have won."

"There's no way they can put him up for banishment, right?" Clarke asks. "He came in second."

"I think they can do what they want."

Miller clucks his tongue. "They say we need more drama in the interviews, so who would you banish if it is down to Sterling and Dax?"

"I guess it depends on what we're valuing in votes," Bellamy says apparently genuinely thinking it over.

"Yeah," says Clarke. "I think Dax has been a better competitor, but that means it's smarter to get rid of him while we can. There's a difference between the person who deserves to go home and the person who makes most sense to banish."

"And I tend to get along better with Sterling and Mel," Bellamy says, which is probably the most diplomatic thing he's ever said about anything. "So I'd probably vote to banish those two."

"Wait, what?" asks Miller, and Clarke cracks up.

"Maybe Sterling will have a really great speech that changes my mind, but the vote is about who I think deserves to stay and who should leave. Dax deserves to be here. Stop laughing," he adds.

"Did you not see Miller's face?"

"You talked through the whole thing and came to the exact wrong conclusion," says Miller.

"Some of us respect the dignity of the banishment process."

Clarke bites the corner of her mouth. "How long until the banishment?"

"A few hours, I don't know."

"We're going to work on this," she says, sliding her arm through Bellamy's. "I've got a few hours to convince him that he doesn't have to be morally flawless on reality TV."

"Someone has to protect the integrity of the _Bromans_ brand," he grumbles.

"And no one else is doing it," Clarke agrees.

She doesn't actually have the chance to really argue with him about the moral implications of banishment voting, largely because it feels awkward to do it with everyone else. The voting gives the whole experience an air of popularity contest already, and Clarke doesn't want to be responsible for forcing everyone to choose sides outside of the actual ceremony. They have an unspoken agreement to not talk about it, and she's going to respect that.

Mel's the one to ask, "What do you think happens if there's a tie? In the voting."

"There could be tonight," Raven agrees. "Four voters for two candidates."

"I assume Morpheus or Legatus would step in and make a decision," says Ontari. She's probably thinking that's her best outcome; Clarke would be, in her place. She seems to realize she's no one's favorite person.

"I would have saved the _no one goes home_ for a tie," says Jasper. "It's still fucked up that they had us vote on that and just ignored it."

"You signed up for a reality show and didn't think they'd play some weird mind games?" Raven asks.

"Point, yeah. But that doesn't make it less weird."

Anya tries to poke them into discussing who might be going home tonight, but no one's really that interested. Roan owns that he's lucky to not be on the block, the conversation shifts to what their challenges might be tomorrow, and Anya lets it go.

On their way over to the elimination though, Clarke murmurs, "You know they don't have any rules for how you vote, right? You get to set your own criteria."

"And I did. This is the first time where I've felt like one person has performed better than the other. That's what I'm voting on."

"It's unfair that I don't get a vote."

"It is." He sobers. "That's actually--yeah. It's not just my vote, so if you want to sell me on Sterling--"

"I'll wait until the actual elimination. They still get to plead their cases, right?"

The ceremony goes exactly as expected, with Sterling and Dax up for banishment, and the speeches aren't anything special. Dax isn't the best speaker, but he makes the same basic points Bellamy did--he's performed well, and he doesn't deserve to go down for one bad challenge. "I know I'm not exactly the most popular guy here," he says, with a self-deprecating smile that puts Clarke a little more on his side. "But I don't think I should go home yet."

Sterling has been here before, and he hits the same beats as before: he likes everyone, he thinks he has more to offer, he'd like to stay. Keeping him is definitely the better strategic choice, in that he'll be gone sooner rather than later, but everyone else vote strategically if they want to. That's not Bellamy's style.

She kisses his shoulder and says, "Vote to keep Dax if you still want to."

"Yeah?"

"Your belief in the integrity of _Bromans_ is cute."

"Thanks, I think."

Dax actually looks alarmed when the two of them stand behind him, but they're the only ones to do it. Everyone else wants Sterling to stay, which is in retrospect Clarke's ideal outcome. Bellamy gets to feel like he did the right thing, but they still get rid of Dax and Ontari.

They all do their best not to giggle through the now standard strip-and-burn process, and before they go, Murphy says, "I guess some of you guys were wandering around last night? Don't do that tonight. We've got some prep stuff going on and it would be a pain if our crew had to find you guys having sex. Just keep it in your weird gold briefs for the night, got it?"

It's not the worst news Clarke has ever gotten; she needs to talk to Bellamy at some point, but she can't say she's exactly looking forward to it. It's stressful to be thrown into the deep end of being in love with her best friend, but not yet stressful enough that she wants to talk to him about it.

All the privacy they get is when they're in bed together, Bellamy curled around her and the microphones all the vanity. He asks, "Still okay?" and she says, "Yeah."

It's close enough to true.


	6. Episode 5

"Do you think they really did something overnight, or did they just not want us sneaking off to have sex?"

It's Gaia who asks, but Clarke thinks everyone was kind of wondering. She assumes the restrictions were targeted at her and Bellamy, but none of the crew really seemed that upset to see them. And it's not as if they actually caught them having sex, or _could_ have caught them having sex. So maybe they weren't the only ones out of bed last night. It’s not as if she pays that much attention to other people’s sleep habits, but there have definitely been times that she and Bellamy get back to the villa and find empty beds.

"The set isn't that big," Maya says. "Not _really_. They always use the same place for our challenges. So maybe they had to do a lot more work on it and didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"Did anyone actually get caught having sex?" Mel asks.

No one says anything, but it's one of those kind of pregnant pauses where it feels like there's a lot that people aren’t saying.

Bellamy finally offers, "It was probably Ontari and Dax," and everyone else laughs and agrees.

So they might be the only two contestants who _haven't_ gotten caught having sex. She thought Maya and Jasper would at least hold out. Or Raven really would think it was too much of a pain.

It’s hopefully not suspicious that no one’s caught them. Maybe the crew just thinks they’re more discreet.

Lincoln shows up as usual after breakfast to take the guys off for whatever training they’ll be doing today, and Clarke and Raven settle by the pool with Maya and a deck of cards she found somewhere, waiting for Murphy to come collect them.

He doesn’t keep them waiting that long, but he also isn’t alone. He shows up with a small, pale girl Clarke hasn’t seen before. The most logical explanation for her would be that she’s a new crew member, but she’s dressed like one of them, in a black two-piece bathing suit with a mic around her neck.

“That adds an episode,” Raven murmurs, standing up with Clarke and Maya to greet the newcomer.

“A new challenger has appeared,” says Murphy. “This is Fox.”

“You’re just bringing a new couple in?” Clarke asks, frowning.

“Look, it’s a pain to do challenges with odd numbers of people, okay? This is easier. Fox, you can introduce yourself.”

She waves, a little shy. “I’m Fox, I’m twenty-three. I’m a yoga instructor.”

“Her boyfriend is training with the guys, but Fox is coming with you. You’ve got some more art to make.”

Clarke’s expecting a smart remark from Raven, but it doesn’t come. She’s looking at Fox with calculation in her eyes, like she’s trying to put something together.

“How many boob statues do you need?” asks Mel.

“That limit does not exist. But that’s not what we’re asking you to do today. Come on, back to the studio. Hustle.”

Clarke falls into step with Raven, lagging a little behind the rest of the group. “Are you okay?”

“You know how they gave you a list of names before you signed up and you had to disclose if you knew anyone on there?”

“Yeah.”

“Fox is one of mine. I figured when she wasn’t here it must have fallen through.”

Something still isn’t quite adding up. Fox didn’t seem to recognize Raven at all. “How do you know her?”

“Indirectly. I just know her name from Facebook. But I was engaged to her boyfriend.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll stop asking,” says Clarke, careful. “But if you do, you should just do it. I don’t know the right questions to ask.”

Raven snorts. “We were childhood sweethearts. Kind of like Gaia and Ilian, except we didn’t go to different schools. Everyone always thought we’d get married, so he proposed before I went to college.” She shakes her head. “So fucking naive, both of us. I got through a year of college, came home, and found out he’d changed his mind and started dating someone else. He just wanted to wait to tell me in person.”

Clarke winces. “What a dick.”

“Maybe he got better,” she says, not sounding convinced. 

Fox is far enough ahead of them that Clarke doesn’t think she can hear, but there are plenty of crew members around. One of them is bound to tell Fox they were talking about her.

Which she must have seen coming. She and her boyfriend would have gotten the same list of names that they did. But Fox hasn’t gotten introductions yet; it’s no wonder she didn’t recognize Raven.

It’s going to be an awkward morning, probably.

“Okay,” says Murphy, once they arrive. “You guys can hang out and get to know each other here. You get wine, obviously, and I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you your challenge.”

“So you’re actually building pre-gaming into it now?” Clarke asks.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we want you guys drunk basically all the time. Welcome to Brome,” he adds, to Fox, and then he’s gone.

“Do they always call it Brome?” she asks.

It really is the most pressing question. “Unfortunately, yeah. I’m Clarke.” Someone has to take point on introductions, and it doesn’t seem like Raven’s doing it this time. “This is Raven, Mel, Gaia, and Maya.”

“Gaia and Maya,” she says, with a small smile. “You’ve got a set.” But her eyes keep darting back to Raven, and Clarke’s pretty sure everyone feels the tension now.

“So you’re still with Finn?” Raven finally asks.

Fox nods. “I know it’s weird we’re meeting like this—“

“Backstory,” says Monroe. “For the audience.”

“We’re getting there, I’m building tension,” says Raven. She looks back at Fox, offers her a smile. “Look, I didn’t ever want to see him again, but I’ve got no problem with you. I hope you guys are happy. Fox is dating my ex-fiancé,” she adds, to the larger group. “And I know I’m going to have to explain every stupid detail to the camera, so I don’t think we need to hash everything out right this second.”

“Not when there’s wine,” says Clarke, and Raven grins at her.

“Not when there’s wine, yeah.”

Fox is perfectly nice, if a little overwhelmed. Clarke can't help feeling somewhat bad for her; while she hasn't bonded with every other contestant, they at least have their dynamics figured out. Fox is coming in cold, the new girl at school, with a history with Raven on top of that. Clarke assumes it's supposed to make good television, but it mostly makes her feel kind of like a bully.

Raven must feel the same, because she grabs a bottle of wine and jerks her head to where Fox and Gaia are making what looks like very awkward polite conversation. "If I don't do this, no one else is going to want to."

"And I have to come?"

"What, you don't want to?"

It's a fair point; there’s no way Clarke is missing this. She grabs another bottle for good measure and follows Raven over. Gaia takes the chance to make her exit quickly and return to Mel and Maya.

"Sorry," says Raven, by way of greeting.

Fox shrugs. "It's not your fault. I thought they'd have us do it in the first episode and get it over with. When they said we were coming in on the fifth--"

"I bet it was supposed to be a huge twist when Finn showed up at training," Clarke says. "The guys tend to get the focus. I don't really know what we're here for."

"Yeah," Raven agrees. "You'd think it was drama, but they don't seem to actually care that much if we're fighting."

"I assume they're just getting enough raw footage that they can splice something together."

"Or maybe the guys have enough drama on their own that they don't care about us."

"Speaking of which," says Clarke, "how's Roan going to do with Finn?"

"I assume if he gets the chance, he's going to kick his ass," says Raven, with a shrug. "But we're on a show where he kicks people's asses on the regular so it's not like he'll need to go out of his way."

"How did you guys both hear about the show?" Clarke asks. "That's one hell of a coincidence."

Raven shrugs. "There was something up in Roan's gym. Some sketchy poster. Honestly, I thought it was a scam, but he wanted to try it.” They're in the LA area too, so that makes some sense. Someone probably just went around putting up promotional material wherever they thought they could find jocks.

"Finn saw something online," says Fox. "He thought it looked fun. How did--sorry, I don't know your boyfriend's name."

Even now, it's still a little weird to _say_ it. It feels like more of a lie when spoken than when they're just acting. "Bellamy."

"How did you and Bellamy find out about it?"

"We actually know someone involved in production," she admits. "We're not allowed to talk about it, but--"

Raven snaps her fingers. "I knew it."

It's not the reaction Clarke was expecting. "What?"

"You guys totally knew Iohannes before, right? Or Morpheus, or whatever he’s going by. That's why he and Bellamy act like a stand-up team."

She has to actually bite back on her laugh. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

"That makes sense, though," Raven continues. "I couldn't figure out how else Bellamy would have found out about this, unless he has a google alert set up for ancient Rome or something."

"I don't think he knows how google alerts work."

"Yeah, I kind of doubted it. Bellamy's the only person here who cares about actual Roman history,” she adds, to Fox. “He's kind of a giant dork, but he knows it, and he's really hot, so we're all giving him a pass."

Clarke has to laugh. "That's why?"

"He's great," she says. "I'm rooting for him to get second."

Fox smiles at that too, and Clarke shifts the conversation back to her. They don't have much in common, but she's a nice enough person, and by the time Murphy gets back, Clarke feels like they've at least managed to make her feel like she's welcome.

"No bloodshed?" he asks.

"Not yet," says Raven. "But you haven't told us what we're doing for the challenge."

"The emperor was so pleased with your last artistic endeavor that he wants you to try something new. The performing arts."

Clarke's stomach drops. "The what?"

"Come on, you're on TV," says Murphy. It's probably why Raven thinks they're friends. "You're already doing some acting." 

It's even more true than he realizes, of course, since she's not _actually_ dating Bellamy, but it's not like that's really _acting_. She's herself, just pretending to be in a relationship with her best friend, and if it felt more like fiction her life would be in all ways improved.

But she's not thinking about that right now. She’s got other things to focus on.

Murphy switches back to his character voice, oblivious to Clarke's minor romantic meltdown. "You'll be in pairs to prepare a dramatic presentation about your experience here in Brome. You should follow whichever muse speaks to you--poetry, dance, song, theater. Hell, write an opera if you want. The sky is the limit."

Clarke and Raven move together immediately, and Murphy smirks. "Sorry, not this time. We're assigning your partners. Clarke, you'll be with Fox, Gaia with Mel, and Maya with Raven. If any of these things are longer than five minutes, I'll sabotage your boyfriends in the next round, so keep that in mind when you’re writing."

"You're just putting your corruption right out there, huh?" asks Raven.

"Have fun!"

Fox bites her lip, nervous. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do a dramatic presentation about being here for about two hours total."

"Yeah, that's bullshit," Clarke agrees. "Are you good at acting or singing or anything?"

Not surprisingly, given her yoga background, she's a pretty good dancer and has done it all her life, so they end up coming up with the pretty terrible solution of Clarke writing a kind of weird poem-thing about gladiatorial combat that Fox can interpretive dance to. It's definitely going to go down in history as one of her worse moments, but they drink enough wine that she's feeling minimal pain, and she's pretty sure it'll be kind of amusingly terrible, if nothing else.

Anya brings the guys back, and Clarke's surprised to see that Bellamy is standing next to the new guy, who must be Finn, until she looks down and sees the two of them are chained together at the ankles. Roan and Jasper and Ilian and Sterling are similarly bound, so it's apparently some part of their challenge, and Bellamy just got the short straw getting stuck with the new guy, the same as Clarke did.

Obviously, she hasn't met Finn yet, but she can't help thinking that Finn is a lot more of a short straw than Fox is. Even if he's gotten better in the years since he and Raven broke up, he's still a guy who cheated on his fiancee and didn't tell her about it until she got home from college, expecting her to be grateful he did it in person. She doesn't see much reason to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She cocks her head at Bellamy, who pulls a face that suggests Finn hasn't impressed him much either. Of course, Roan probably gave them the Raven backstory too, so even if he was the nicest guy in the world, Bellamy wouldn't be positively inclined toward him.

She'll have to get the scoop later.

Blessedly, she and Fox are going first for their "performance," and it's about as bad as she expected. Clarke's drunk enough to think her shitty lines are kind of funny, so she's giggling, and Fox is fighting through and trying to do serious interpretive dance, but even serious interpretive dance never really looks anything but ridiculous to Clarke, and it's just an overall mess.

But it's short and once they're done they get to join the audience, so at least there's that.

"That was the worst thing I've ever heard," Bellamy says, and she barely even manages a glare.

"Asshole."

Gaia and Mel fare a little better--Gaia's a good singer, and the two of them wrote a cute song that Mel does backing vocals on. The cheering for them is enthusiastic more than perfunctory, and Clarke and Fox cheer as loud as anyone. They can admit when they're beaten.

Raven and Maya do a skit where they pretend to be their boyfriends talking trash about the other competitors, but in a nice way. Raven starts off wearing several togas and just removes them as she goes, while Maya talks way too quickly and keeps mentioning how jealous she is of Raven's muscles. By the end, Raven is just wearing her bikini and Maya is blatantly fondling her arm, all of which seems exactly right.

Murphy declares them to be the winners, which remains essentially meaningless aside from bragging rights, but they’re happy with it. Clarke's expecting the shackles to come off the guys after that, but all he says is, "All right, you guys are done for the day."

"What about the legwear?" asks Sterling.

"Oh, that stays. We'll take it off before you go to sleep. You're learning how to function as a unit, remember?"

"We're not even doing anything," Bellamy points out.

"You're bonding. Keep complaining and we'll make you sleep in them."

Bellamy deliberately turns his attention to Clarke. "So this is Finn."

There's no need to be outright rude, so she offers her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too. Bellamy said you're an artist?"

"Freelance. I mostly do graphic design."

"Just because you're not making a living off it doesn't mean you stop being an artist," Bellamy grumbles, and the familiar argument gets them back to the villa, at which point the discomfort sets in. Finn is fine, friendly enough if not particularly interesting, but Clarke has no interest in hanging out with him, especially given Raven's clear discomfort. The two of them haven't even talked yet, and Clarke wants to be on Raven's side, but she also doesn't want to abandon Bellamy with Finn and Fox.

Then again, Raven has Roan, and by extension Jasper and Maya; she'll understand why Clarke's spending time with her ex, given the circumstances. It’s not like she’s picking any side other than Bellamy’s here.

"What did you guys have to do in training with this?" she asks, poking the shackle on Bellamy's ankle. It feels like it’s made of soft rubber, a little more serious than the one he had during the first challenge, but still fairly comfortable and low impact.

He shrugs. "Nothing special. Regular training, just we had to make sure not to trip over each other."

"How was the training for you?" she asks Finn. She wants to believe she wouldn't like him much even if she didn't know about the Raven thing, but it's hard to say. He's exactly the kind of guy she would have liked when she was eighteen, all floppy hair and puppy dog eyes, but now she mostly sees the way he's trying a little too hard and his eyes keep darting down to her cleavage even though his girlfriend and--as far as he knows--her boyfriend are both _right here_.

Bellamy must notice too, because he actually pulls her into his lap, the most possessiveness he's showed in the entire time they've been on the show. It's not unwelcome, of course, but it is a little distracting; he's got one hand on her ankle, drawing idle patterns as he chats with Fox about her yoga studio and Octavia's interest in martial arts, and his chest is warm and broad behind her. It's their first time being quite this close when they aren't going to sleep, and Clarke has some trouble concentrating on the conversation.

She's thinking about just dozing off until dinner to avoid the whole situation when Bellamy and Fox's conversation lags, and Finn says, low, "How well do you guys know Raven?"

The question requires some actual thought, which unfortunately perks Clarke up. "Relative to meeting her this week and only interacting with her on camera in a reality TV setting? Pretty well."

"Way to hedge your bets there," Bellamy teases.

"It depends on what he wants to know."

Finn rubs the back of his neck. "Do you think I should try to talk to her?"

"Have you ever tried before?" Bellamy asks.

"What do you mean?"

Bellamy shifts a little, repositioning with one arm around Clarke's waist, as if he's worried she'll take the movement as a sign he doesn't want her around anymore. "I mean, you've had, what, seven years to apologize? If you're only doing it because you don't want to look bad on TV, I'd skip it."

"I didn't know if she wanted to hear from me," says Finn, which doesn't really inspire confidence in his motivations. "I know I hurt her."

It's hard to really avoid another person when there are only twelve people around, but it's certainly worth trying. Clarke's honestly amazed the producers didn't chain Finn to Roan to force the issue, but as long as they didn't, there's no reason for Finn to do it himself.

"So it's on her to decide what to do about it," she tells him, firm. "If she wants to talk, she knows where to find you."

Finn seems to accept this, and Clarke does think it’s the right call, but when he and Bellamy go for what will certainly be a very awkward bathroom break, she still goes to check in with the rest of the group. 

“How’s life over there?” Jasper asks. “Is it awkward? It was awkward this morning.”

“Bellamy’s doing his best to be the competent person in the conversation.”

He winces. “Ouch.”

“How’s the asshole?” Roan asks. It’s the most hostile she’s heard him be—he takes the whole thing seriously, possibly more seriously than anyone else, but he doesn’t take it personally. He seems to hold no grudges, but Finn is a special circumstance.

“Mostly kind of boring,” Clarke says. “I like Fox, but Finn is—“

“He looked like a good option when I was eighteen,” Raven says, but she sounds more dismissive than defensive.

“No offense to Fox, but if he had you locked down he should have kept you.”

She blows a kiss in Clarke’s general direction. “Thanks, babe.”

“He asked if he should come talk to you, I told him he should let you make the first move. Let me know if I was wrong.”

“Fuck, I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s not like I think about him much anymore. Not most of the time. But when I do, it pisses me off. I don’t want him back or anything. But we were tight for our whole lives. It sucks that he fucked it up so badly.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I’m—I don’t want to be hanging out with him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to leave Bellamy stranded.” She glances back at Roan. “We could hang out with him, right?”

“We could do a lot of things that we don’t.”

“You’re going to look so good standing next to him,” Clarke points out. “Like one of those before and after pictures for someone whose life got way better.”

Raven snorts. “Yeah, that’s true. If you guys aren’t together, how is anyone going to see how much hotter you are?”

“I think they should be able to figure it out without a direct comparison. I’ll do whatever you want,” he adds, turning his full attention to Raven. Clarke wouldn’t generally say Roan is her type, but there’s something inescapably hot about his low, earnest tone. It’s like something out of a romance novel. “If you want to talk to him, I’ll go with you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong and my life is awesome,” she declares. “So why the fuck am I the one avoiding him?” She waves for Maya, who was talking to Fox. “Come on, we can play poker or something.”

Bellamy and Finn take a while to get back, Clarke assumes due to awkward bathroom shuffling, but they don’t seem too shaken by the scene that greets them, everyone hanging out together and apparently enjoying each other’s company. Clarke and Fox left space between themselves, and Bellamy and Finn slot in easily. It’s more awkward than it’s been since the first few days of the show, but maybe that was the idea. They’d all gotten too comfortable, so it was time to shake them up.

Still, as evil plans go, it’s shockingly benign. The producers could be much bigger assholes about this. It’s almost endearing, how bad they seem to be at manufacturing drama. Monroe doesn’t even press Finn to start anything.

“That was honestly kind of anti-climactic,” she tells Bellamy, once the shackles have been undone and they’re in the relative privacy of bed.

“Don’t jinx it,” he mutters. “It’s not over until we banish Finn.”

“What if someone else deserves it more?”

“He’s always going to deserve it most,” he says, fierce. “I don’t care if it’s fair to him and Fox or not, Raven’s our friend.”

Clarke pulls his arms tighter around herself, an awkward kind of hug. She doesn't feel as if she's getting to know him better here, as if she's finding out new things about him, because she always knew what kind of person he was. It's nothing new, what she’s experiencing. He's the same Bellamy she's always loved, and all that’s changed is that she recognizes all the warm and fuzzy feelings she has for him are evidence of more than just being best friends.

"I can't tell if this means you approve or not,” he says.

"I do."

"Good." He noses her neck. "Get some sleep, Clarke."

"Gotta be alert to get Finn banished tomorrow."

She feels the soft snort of laughter against her neck, this warm tickle of breath. "That's the plan, yeah. I think we can make it happen."

*

When Clarke leaves the shower and gets to the table for breakfast, she finds Roan wearing more clothing than Bellamy is, for the first time that she's ever seen. It's still not a lot--Roan is in a toga to Bellamy's leather skirt--but it's still more than a little alarming.

"Are you trying to intimidate Finn by wearing more clothes?" she asks. "Because I don't think that's how it works."

“How do you think it works?” Bellamy asks. “Not that I think you’re wrong, I just didn’t have a strong opinion on—whatever’s happening right now. I can’t rank kinda of clothing intimidation.”

“I think it means he’s depressed,” says Raven, taking the seat next to Clarke.

“He’s upset, he wears more clothing?” Bellamy asks.

“It’s a theory.” She looks her boyfriend up and down. “Seriously, what is this?”

“Why would I tell you? I’m enjoying all the theories. Please, go on.”

Raven isn’t having it. “Do I need to be worried?”

“I’m just wearing a toga.”

“Which is more than you’ve worn pretty much the entire time I’ve known you,” says Clarke.

“Ah yes, your extensive experience of, what, ten days?”

It’s a fair point, but at the same time, she’s seen a lot of him in ten days. Not as much as she’s seen of the women, but still. She would say she’s pretty close to an expert on his habits in the _Bromans_ environment.

Raven apparently agrees. “You know she’s right.”

Maya and Jasper come out, and Maya’s eyes widen. “Roan, did something happen?”

Once they're recovered from the laughing that sets off, Roan tries to say he's _cold_ , which Raven immediately dismisses as a feeling he has never experienced.

"Describe it."

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"Come on, I want you to tell me what you think being cold is like."

He pauses. "Well, how would you describe it?”

"I'm not _giving you answers_ ," says Raven. "If you can't figure it out--"

"I don't think anyone here could explain the sensation of being cold very well," he says, and Clarke is never going to get involved in this one, but she is on Roan's side here. 

That conversation is enough of a derail that they actually never find out if Roan is actually cold, though, and by the time they're heading to the challenge, they still don't have an explanation for why he's wearing actual clothing.

Or, well, as close to actual clothing as anyone comes on _Bromans_. Their standards are definitely low.

They're at the cesspit today, which means they all have to pretend like it's the worst place they've ever been in their lives, but Clarke's actually kind of excited. It's hot today; maybe they can go swimming after.

"Is Roan sick?" Murphy asks.

"I don't see why everyone is reading into this," Roan grumbles.

"Really?" asks Raven. "Don't you?"

"All I want to do is dramatically throw my toga off before the challenge to reveal my glorious physique," Roan says. "Is that really so hard to understand?"

From anyone else, Clarke would think it was another deflection, but she's pretty sure Roan lives his entire life for the drama. It’s his only calling.

"You're so good at this show," Murphy says, with what sounds like genuine respect. "Okay, Legatus, you want to tell them what they're doing?"

"This is a head-to-head challenge," Lincoln says. "Bellamy versus Roan, Finn versus Ilian, and Jasper versus Sterling."

"Oh good," Bellamy mutters. Roan's undefeated, at this point, but Bellamy's never actually gone up against him. He would have annihilated him if they'd done this last round, so it’s anyone’s game.

"You see over the water are some--contraptions."

"Did we seriously not come up with a word for this?" Murphy asks.

"They can add it in post," Lincoln says, and immediately recovers his Legatus persona. "Your girlfriends will be suspended over the cesspit for as long as you can hold them there. The first to lose his grip will lose the challenge."

Clarke winces. Not only is she pretty sure Roan can bench more than Bellamy can, but she thinks Raven weighs less than she does. It's not impossible, but Bellamy's going to be fighting an uphill battle.

"At least we're going first," Bellamy says, and Clarke kisses him, just a quick peck.

"I think you can win."

"Thanks. I think you're going to get dumped in a smelly pit."

"If you drop me, I'm dragging you in after me."

"Yeah, that sounds fair." He gives her shoulders a squeeze. "I'll do my best not to drop you."

"Thanks."

It takes a while to get everything set up; there's safety stuff for Clarke and Raven to get briefed on before they actually get in, and Bellamy and Roan have to check to make sure they know how to hold the rope safely and brace themselves. Plus Roan has to do like five takes of his dramatic disrobing, just to make sure it comes out right.

And then Clarke is suspended over the pool in the hot sun, watching as Bellamy settles with the rope. It's not scary, exactly--falling isn't even going to hurt that much--but it's a little nerve-wracking. She doesn't love being so high up or the way she's swaying back and forth, and the sun is too hot on her back.

"Begin!" says Lincoln, and the crew members who are holding the ropes let go, leaving Bellamy and Roan to carry the full weight themselves.

It's not very interesting, as challenges go. It'll probably be fine to watch, but living it, all Clarke has to do is hang out, quite literally. She can see Bellamy, muscles straining as he keeps holding on, face twisting up, but it’s not that exciting, as views go.

"The water's starting to look pretty good," she says, and he huffs.

"The sun's starting to get to you."

"You've got this."

"But if I don't--" He huffs, catching his breath. "You’re looking forward to getting dumped in the cesspit."

"Just to cool off."

"Remember when Roan said he was cold?" Raven asks.

"I was, then," says Roan. “I’ve changed my mind since.” He's not sounding that much better than Bellamy, which is encouraging.

But Bellamy's clearly on his last legs. The rope slips a little, and Clarke feels herself drop an inch or two. "Fuck," he mutters.

"I am dragging you in with me."

He smiles. "I know."

And then he drops her.

In all honesty, it's kind of fun. She goes down fast and the splash is _huge_ , and the cool water really is refreshing. She still remembers to make a show of acting like she's been dumped into a rancid swamp, obviously, but she spends a little longer getting to the side than she needs to, just to get herself fully refreshed.

Bellamy offers his hand and, as promised, she takes it and yanks him in.

It hadn't actually occurred to her that this would be his first time in the cesspit, but he's clearly expecting the experience to be a lot worse than it is. He dunks his head, washing off the sweat, and emerges grinning. 

"Okay, yeah, that did help."

"I told you."

To her surprise, he steps right into her space, leaning down and bumping his nose against hers. "Sorry," he says, low, and then he kisses her.

Clarke's been trying not to think about the kiss from the other day too much. It was a seismic shift for _her_ , but Bellamy didn't seem to react at all. She couldn't tell if it was obvious, if it had felt different to him or just to her.

Now, she thinks it must have been different _somehow_ , because Bellamy hasn't ever kissed her like this before either. It's long and slow and deliberate, a melting kind of kiss that makes the rest of the world fall away. All she can think about is his lips, his hands on her hips, the firm press of him against her. He’s kissing her like he never wants to stop, and since she doesn’t want to stop either, she’s not sure why they ever would.

"You're making out in a _swamp_ after you _lost_!" Jasper calls, breaking the moment. "Look at your life, look at your choices!"

Bellamy pulls back, but just to stare at her, and Clarke feels laid bare, like he can tell just from looking at her everything she's thinking.

Which wouldn't be that bad, honestly. If he just knew without her telling him, that would be kind of a relief.

"I'll win the next one," he says, and she smiles, pushes the wet hair off his forehead.

"You're good."

He gets out of the water first and then helps her out, holding onto her hand as they head to the stands to watch the next matches. His thumb keeps stroking over hers, and she presses her lips against his shoulder, trying to get across how good she is with all of this.

The fact that they lost is in the back of her mind, obviously, but it's not pressing. It's not nearly as important as the fact that he kissed her, and it seems like he wants to do it again.

Finn beats Ilian, which sucks, and Jasper beats Sterling, which is a relief. It's hard for Clarke to really judge, but it feels like Bellamy lasted longer than either of the other losers, so she's hoping he won't be up for elimination, but even if he is, she thinks the others will keep him.

They like him, too.

Once everything's done, Miller takes them for their post-loss interview.

"That didn't seem like a crushing loss."

"Roan's undefeated," Bellamy says. "It would have been cool to win, but it's going to have a lot more impact when I take him out in the finals."

"A real upset," Clarke agrees. 

"And it was really hot, so getting in the water was kind of nice."

"Except for the grossness."

"I was already pretty gross, honestly."

"I didn't want to say anything."

He smiles, but there's some tension in his eyes she can't quite figure out. She assumes he wants to talk, but they won't be able to for hours, and that's assuming that Murphy doesn't tell them to stay put again. She’s not afraid of the conversation anymore, but she’s still not sure when it’s going to happen.

And then Miller says, "Okay, five minutes," and leaves.

Clarke blinks. "What?"

Bellamy bites the corner of his mouth, looking her up and down. His anxiety is palpable, and she catches up a second later.

"Are we not on camera right now?"

"And our mics are off."

"How did--when could you even ask him?"

"He's got his phone. We've been playing Words With Friends when there's downtime and, uh--passing notes. I asked him if he could get us a couple minutes of privacy.”

"And he said yes?"

He laughs, but it's not really amused. "Do I really have to spend the whole five minutes telling you how I got the five minutes? Because that would be a waste.”

Her breath catches. "What did you want to do with it?"

For another second, he just stares. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then he just cups her face and kisses her, like an exclamation point, not slow and soft this time, but a declaration of intent. A kiss that's just for her, just for _them_ , a confession that's only missing the words.

It takes a second for her hands to find somewhere to settle, but all that means is that she's mapping his skin, feeling the muscle underneath her fingers as she pulls him in and kisses back, desperate and hot, trying to get everything she's been feeling into only a few minutes.

"Clarke," he breathes, between kisses, and she says, "I meant it. All of it."

He pulls back, but it's to grin, bright and broad, so stupidly _happy_. "Yeah?"

She has to smile. "Obviously."

He drops his forehead onto her shoulder. " _Obviously_. Fuck, I've been dying here."

"I was too, if it helps. I thought you had a thing for Miller."

His mouth twitches. "Based on what, exactly?"

"You like him. And it wasn't like we were actually--"

"I've been _actually_ for a while," he teases. "I wasn't looking for anyone else. I think half of why O wanted us to do this was that she thought I would finally make a move."

She kisses him again. "I was working on making one too."

"Yeah, I thought you might be. But you weren't making friends with the camera men to get private time."

"Which means you didn't think I might have a thing for any of them, so--"

"Somehow I just thought you had a thing for me."

"And I do."

His grin is the brightest thing she's ever seen. "You do."

*

Clarke has a lot of trouble mustering up any kind of anxiety about the night’s banishment. If they get kicked off the show, she’s going to be off camera and able to make out with her new boyfriend to her heart’s content, which isn’t quite as appealing as winning ten thousand dollars, but would be a pretty decent consolation prize.

So she spends the rest of the afternoon tucked into Bellamy’s side, warm and slightly buzzed, the same as always, except that now she’s _sure_. 

And she doesn’t have to be weirdly suspicious of Miller, as a bonus. She can just be grateful to him for his service in giving her and Bellamy five minutes of privacy.

Assuming he really did. If their conversation ends up as a weird reveal on the show, she won’t be shocked, but she also won’t be that upset. They can get kicked off for lying and she won’t even be able to pretend they don’t deserve it.

But for right now, it feels like she already won _Bromans_ ; everything after this is just a bonus.

“You’re not worried about going home?” Maya asks over dinner. “The last time Bellamy was in the bottom, you seems pretty stressed.”

“I was stressed about him getting hurt, which didn’t happen here,” says Clarke. “And if we go home, we go home.”

“I really don’t get you sometimes,” Raven says, shaking her head. 

Clarke smiles. “Yeah, probably not.”

But it’s Ilian and Sterling up for banishment, an easy choice for everyone. Even Sterling seems to acknowledge it—he’s been on the bottom too often, and his time has come. Finn seems like he might be voting for Ilian, but if he was, he changes course, and it’s a unanimous decision.

“Yeah, that seems right,” says Murphy. “Sterling, your time among us is over, and you’re about to become ancient history. You will leave as you arrived.”

Sterling strips, Lincoln burns the banner, and the rest of them give him hugs before he takes off. Clarke doesn’t dislike him, doesn’t wish him any ill, but it was his time, and she’s glad he was the one to go.

Just because Finn wasn’t an option, obviously.

Bellamy leans in close as they’re walking back. “You know, Murphy didn’t say anything about not going out tonight.”

She feels a grin spreading over her face. To be honest, it’s been hard to keep it off. “He didn’t. Let’s go exploring.”


	7. Episode 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not upgrading the rating because this is p non-explicit smut, but it is still smutty, so be aware!

Now that it’s a real option, Clarke’s not sure how she feels about the prospect of actually having sex on the set of _Bromans_. 

The sex itself is, of course, very tempting. She’s been wanting to jump Bellamy basically the whole time they’ve been here, and now that she knows he feels the same way about her, there’s nothing stopping her from doing it. And she really, really wants to fuck him. Like, a lot.

But she's not convinced she wants to do it _here_. Even if they could be completely sure none of the cameras would pick it up, it's not really the kind of environment where she feels totally secure about getting laid. There's security, and crew members, and the rest of the contestants. The chances of getting caught are high, and she's just not into that.

Bellamy must be thinking the same thing, because he puts the blanket down in a private spot and says, "I didn't actually have ulterior motives with this."

"Really?"

He pauses, reconsiders. "Okay, I did."

He doesn't give her a chance to reply before he's leaning over and kissing her again. It's remarkable, how different the private kisses are, although it probably shouldn't be. After all, they were never making out for the camera, always doing quick, appropriate kinds of affection, and now Bellamy is settling in as if he's making up for lost time.

They've got plenty of that to do too.

He pulls back, giving her a crooked smile. "Good?"

"I think you can stop checking in now."

"That doesn't sound like me."

"You're right, it doesn't." She bites her lip, trying not to smile. "Why didn't you just wait for this? To talk to me."

"Fuck, I didn't want to wait another second," he says. "Besides, I didn't know if they were going to keep on telling us not to leave at night. I figured if I didn't do it when I had the chance--"

"So you told Miller we weren't really dating?"

"He guessed."

"How?" she demands, and Bellamy laughs.

"You didn't fuck it up."

"Did you?"

He flops onto his back, smiling. "I'm pretty sure Miller's the only one who noticed. He interviews us and apparently I'm, uh--I don't know. I think it's how I look at you in interviews. He asked, and I was pretty sure he wasn't going to spill the beans."

That’s almost as confusing as Miller figuring it out in the first place. "Why?"

"Because he doesn't give a shit about the integrity of _Bromans_. And I needed to talk to someone."

Clarke nudges under his jaw, smiling. "I'm just imagining you and Miller sitting off to the side of some challenge texting each other. You're so anti-social."

"I was talking to Miller, that's being social."

"I think you're supposed to bond with the other contestants."

"I like them fine, but it's not like we could talk about how I wasn't really dating you. They all bought it."

"Well, you should have just been dating me."

"Fuck, I was trying."

It makes her stomach twist up, and she props herself on his chest, looking down at him. His hair is a wild tangle of curls and his glasses are crooked on his nose, and she can't believe it took her this long.

"I wish you'd told me. As soon as you said it, I would have figured it out."

"But you didn't know before," he says, his smile wistful.

"Don't overthink it," she says. "I wasn't letting myself notice, and then I couldn't help it, and--trust me, this has been a week of non-stop _holy shit, I'm in love with Bellamy, I should have noticed years ago_."

He pulls her down and kisses her, hot and urgent. “Is it weird if I ask you to say that again?”

Part of her is tempted to fuck with him, to play dumb about what he wants, but she wants the same thing from him. “I love you,” she says, and he rolls them over so he’s pressing her down, the packed earth and fake cobblestone uncomfortable under her back but the weight of him so perfect she barely notices.

When he kisses her, it feels like he’s been waiting, like he’s been planning, like he’s thought about this so often that he was able to come up with a plan to make sure he did it right. And he probably did. He’s been trying to figure this out for a while, and kissing is the easy part. He knew what he wanted from this.

“You're supposed to say it back,” she says, and his laugh is surprised and delighted.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

"And you want to get laid?"

He actually seems a little surprised by the question, even though Clarke can feel his dick pressing up against her thigh. Maybe at this point he's just used to being kind of turned on and unable to do anything about it.

But what he says is, "On the ground in fake ancient Rome?"

"Like you _haven't_ had fantasies about getting laid in fake ancient Rome. And real ancient Rome."

"Not _here_ , though. Not that I, uh--we can if you--"

She dissolves into laughter. "You're such a dork."

"I mean it, though," he says, like he's really worried she thinks he doesn't. "It's up to you. I'm not in a hurry."

"You did get your camera man friend to break the rules so you could talk to me as soon as possible."

"That wasn't about getting laid."

It's a sweet sentiment, and one she even agrees with, but when she pulls him back down for another kiss, it goes from warm and happy to hot and desperate in about ten seconds, and it's not even entirely her fault. It's hard to make out with the guy she's in love with and _not_ get carried away, but Bellamy seems to be having the same problem, and in no time he's grinding against her and she's got one legged wrapped around his, urging him closer.

"Okay," he says, breathless, "we could--"

The whole alley is suddenly illuminated, and Bellamy startles off her. It seems profoundly unfair that they've managed to hang out plenty when they're not having sex, but as soon as she's finally about to get laid, someone decides to stop them.

"We need to be here," says the woman with the flashlight. “Find somewhere else to hook up."

Bellamy stutters apologies, but Clarke just smiles, takes his hand, and tugs him back toward the villa. There's a pretty secluded alleyway with no evidence of cameras right outside, and she shoves him up against it. "How do you feel about hooking up against a wall in fake ancient Rome?"

"Good," he says, breathless.

"Good," she agrees, and drops down to her knees.

*

The next morning, absolutely nothing is supposed to be different in Clarke's life, which is kind of awkward. She and Bellamy have ostensibly done this before, so she shouldn't be in the best mood ever just because she got to suck his dick and he fingered her and then ate her out. The only reason they didn’t actually fuck was a lack of condoms, but she’s not exactly heartbroken about it. She had a great time.

Plus, she’s pretty sure there _are_ condoms in the vanities. They just need to grab one next time.

"Seriously, is fake dirty water some weird kink for you?" Raven asks, squinting at Clarke.

"Adrenaline," says Clarke. "Like when you survive a near-death experience and want to celebrate by getting laid."

"Yeah, that was terrifying," Bellamy says, deadpan. "I was so worried you were going to drown."

Raven's still watching them, trying to figure it out, and Clarke does her best to pull herself together. "We hadn't gotten a chance to get away in a few days. I was stressed about it, and now I'm not."

"I just like getting laid," Bellamy says, with a shrug. "It's not complicated."

"How are you doing?" Clarke asks, turning her focus to Raven. "I haven't seen Finn and Fox this morning."

"Gaia volunteered to hang out with them. I think Roan's more annoyed than I am."

"We're on a fighting reality TV show," Roan grumbles. "I can't believe they haven't let me confront him. That's reality gold."

"Maybe they're saving it," says Bellamy. "They want to build up the tension."

Clarke smiles. "If they build it too long, Finn's going to be gone before Roan can kick his ass."

"You think?" Raven asks.

"I think if he's up for banishment, he's getting banished," says Clarke, with a shrug. "There's no way he's not."

"Thanks," says Raven, soft. "Not that I don't want Roan to get to kick his ass, but--"

"Trust me, I can think of plenty of exes I wouldn't want to be stuck in a fake Roman villa with. It doesn't have to be that bad to suck."

Raven puts her head on Clarke's shoulder, and Clarke gives her shoulders a squeeze. 

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Lincoln shows up to collect the guys for their training, and Clarke kills time floating on her back in the pool, reliving the highlights of the last twenty-four hours, Bellamy's mouth and hands and the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. 

Octavia is going to be so fucking smug, but they're going to deserve it.

Murphy shows up just after lunch to pick them up. They've never done a challenge with as few as five people before, and it feels a little deserted. She never thought one person being gone would make such a big difference, but there have been six of them for a while now. 

Maybe it's just that everything feels different today.

Even the sight of the challenge area isn't enough to totally dull her mood, even though it should be. It's not immediately obvious what they're doing, but it's immediately obvious that it's _bad_ —there are dead animals on the table, which is never a good start—but it’s not until she spots the fire that she figures it out.

"Oh fuck, we're cooking."

"You'll be preparing a traditional feast for your gladiators," says Murphy, straightfaced. "That's the professional way to say, _oh fuck, we're cooking_."

"Thanks. Is that an actual dead chicken?"

"Hey, just be grateful we're not making you kill them yourselves."

It's a small comfort, honestly. Clarke might be better at killing chickens than she is at cooking. 

"What do you eat?" Gaia asks, with something like awe, as Clarke completely mangles the mushroom she's attempting to chop. "Just takeout?"

"Whatever Bellamy makes."

Maya shakes her head. "So, he's hot, he's in shape, he's smart, and he cooks? Does he have flaws?"

"Of course he does. He's not perfect." She doesn't look convinced, and Clarke shrugs. "We're both too stubborn and competitive, which can be bad. He's really--he can be too set in his own way of thinking, and he gets stuck in his head. When we have a fight, I want to be alone, and he wants to hash it out. But we've known each other for a long time, so we're pretty used to it. We know how to bring out the best in each other."

"Jesus, you're getting more disgusting every day," Raven says, with a roll of her eyes. "And I'm literally butchering raw meat right now, so--"

"So tell us about Roan. He seems pretty perfect too, as long as you don't mind nudists."

"He's a good guy, yeah. He can be kind of a rich, privileged dick, but he never minds getting called out on it. And he's a lot smarter than he lets on." She smirks. "Not as smart as me, but he's cool with that too. Maya, you're up."

Maya startles. "What?"

"What's the dirt on Jasper?"

"I think he tends to oversell his faults, honestly," Maya says. "He likes to joke about everything that’s wrong with him, but sometimes it feels like his biggest flaw is that he doesn't know how to take credit for the good things about himself. But I do think this is helping. He's not much of a bro, so I know it means a lot to him that he's doing well at this and that guys like Roan and Bellamy like him."

"Ilian snores," says Gaia, and everyone laughs. Her tone turns thoughtful. "I don't know. I think it's like Clarke said, no one's perfect, but you can find the person who's perfect for you. The person whose faults you can deal with. I'm stubborn, and Ilian doesn't mind just letting me have my way. I'm a lot more religious than he is, but that doesn't bother me."

There's an awkward pause, and Fox says, "I guess I'm kind of the elephant in the room with this."

"Or the fox!" says Maya, like she can’t help herself.

It breaks the tension enough that Raven's voice is casual when she asks, "Did you know?"

"Not right away. It's not like he put it in his okcupid profile. But when we started talking about our past relationships, he was open about it. He said you were amazing, but he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment back then, and he fucked it up. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I'm not proud of everything I did when I was eighteen either."

Raven nods. "I'm glad you guys are happy."

"So far, yeah. Maybe not after he sees what we're cooking here."

It is a pretty valid concern. Clarke's sure some of them know how to cook _some_ meal, but between the supposedly authentic ingredients, utensils, and appliances, none of those skills are carrying over. Maya seems to be the most experienced, which means they put her in charge of the meat so no one will get food poisoning.

It's not going to be good.

"This is why we're not on _Top Chef_ ," Raven mutters. "Jesus Christ."

"Not really a thing yet, according to Morpheus," Clarke reminds her. "I think it's going to be edible."

"So's dirt, that's not much of an accomplishment."

They're mostly done when Murphy brings the guys in. The five of them are a little sweaty and dirty, showing the signs of a hard day, and of course Murphy introduces the whole thing with, "Your lovely ladies know how hard you've been working, so they thought they'd make you a meal."

"Oh shit," says Ilian. Clarke's not sure she's ever actually heard him swear before.

"I did my best!" says Gaia. "You don't have to eat it, you can starve."

Bellamy leans over Clarke's shoulder, looking down at the salad she was working on. "How do you fuck up salad?" he asks. "All you have to do is throw uncooked ingredients together."

"Shut up."

He kisses her cheek. "I'm sure it's going to be delicious."

"How much wine do we have access to?" asks Jasper.

"As much as you need," says Murphy.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Clarke was sort of hoping that this would be one of those times when it would turn out better than they thought it had, but the results are pretty much exactly as shitty as she feared they would be. The salad is gross and weird, the chicken is unevenly cooked, and everything is just a total mess.

"Did Romans ever go to the vomitorium because the food was so bad?" Murphy asks. He seems to be sticking around just to snark, which isn't exactly surprising. “Asking for you.”

Bellamy forces another bite of salad down; he's being incredibly polite, and Clarke adores him. "That's actually a common misconception. That's not what a vomitorium is."

"Yeah?" Murphy actually sounds interested for once. "What is it?"

"Exit from arenas or stadiums. A lot of people are coming out, so that's where the name comes from. To spew forth."

"Really?" Clarke asks.

His smile softens when he looks at her; she can't help wondering how it's going to come across on the show. If anyone aside from Miller knows about their private drama, they haven't mentioned it, but they've probably noticed _something_ is going on.

Maybe they'll think he proposed. Or that she just really missed sex. That one's not even wrong.

"Yeah, I didn't learn that until college, actually. I mentioned it to one of my professors, and she told me that it was probably ancient propaganda that stuck around."

"So we don't have a special place to throw up?" asks Murphy.

Bellamy raises his glass. "Whenever the spirit moves you, just like in modern times."

Once they've made their way through as much of the meal as they can (which really isn't much) they're allowed to go back and eat real food, and drink a little more wine. Finn and Roan have made some kind of peace, which seems to mostly involve ignoring each other, and Finn approaches Raven with an apparently genuine apology for being an asshole, which Raven accepts.

"Is this going well?" Clarke asks that night. They decided not to sneak out again, and she only regrets it a little. They're still in bed, curled up together, and that's more than enough for her.

"What, exactly?"

"Everything. We're awesome, Raven's getting closure, this is like the most emotionally healthy reality TV show ever, right?"

"Yeah, they're definitely going to cancel it for being boring as shit."

"Maybe all the T&A will help." 

“Maybe.” His hand slides down her stomach, flirting with the band of her underwear. "How quiet do you think you can be?"

She'd been drowsy, but her body is suddenly on full alert. "Seriously?"

"I can jerk off in the shower, I assume that's more of a pain for you." He kisses her shoulder, and then her neck, fingers sliding under fabric but not all the way down. "You want me to?"

She only trusts herself to nod, already biting her lip to say quiet as he starts to work her clit. He's going for fast and dirty, working with a kind of single-minded determination she's not always into, but right now it's perfect, hard and fast and kind of hot, knowing everyone else is around and could hear them. It’s not quite a kink, but it’s not nearly as much of a downside as she was expecting.

He gets her off twice, and she's pretty sure he would have been happy to keep going, if she wasn't worn out and ready to sleep.

"I think this is going awesome," Bellamy murmurs, smug, as he settles in to actually sleep, and Clarke has no arguments.

*

"Is losing a kink for you now?" Jasper asks. "Because if it is, that would be great. Like, from a personal perspective. I would be totally happy to let you lose to me any time!"

"It's not a kink," Bellamy says. "But thanks for the offer. You're a saint."

"It could be a kink," Clarke muses. "But winning is a kink too, so really anything works."

"Yeah, all roads lead to bone."

Clarke chokes, and Bellamy thumps her on the back, grinning. "I hate you," she says.

"I know."

They're back at the cesspit for this challenge, which Clarke is definitely excited about. It’s not as if the cesspit is responsible for her relationship with Bellamy—she’s pretty sure he was planning to confess anyway—but it still has some sentimental value.

She tends to do pretty well here, all things considered.

“Five warriors remaining,” Lincoln says, looking them over. “I can tell you’re all hungry to make it to the games and ready to prove yourselves. Am I right?”

He’s got them trained, at this point. The guys respond in unison: “Yes, Legatus!”

“I hope so. Today, you will be crossing the cesspit three times. On your first two trips, you will bring sand bags—“

“One sandbag per trip,” Anya says, and Clarke smiles.

“Yes, only one sandbag at a time,” Lincoln agrees. “Once you’ve gotten both your sandbags across, you’ll bring your girlfriends as well. The first to finish will be the winner. Anyone else is a candidate for banishment. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Legatus,” they chorus again.

There isn’t even that much setup for this one. Everyone is familiar with the sand bags and the cesspit by this point, and there isn’t a ton of safety information to go over. Anya emphasizes again that it’s against the rules to take more than one bag at a time and that they must make three separate trips, just for good measure, and Jasper reaches over to high five Clarke.

“That’s how you know you really made a difference. They had to change the rules because you were too good.”

She smiles. “I’m glad I’m leaving my mark on _Bromans_.”

Lincoln gets the guys lined up first, in alphabetical order. That puts Bellamy on one end, next to Finn, and then Ilian, Jasper, and Roan. Clarke steps into place across from him when prompted, scoping out the layout. Each of them has two sandbags in front of them, with enough space between the lanes that starting a fight would require going out of one’s way. Unless Bellamy could drag Finn down, there wouldn’t be much point.

“On your mark!” Lincoln says. The guys step up to the line. “Get set—go!”

It’s not like watching Olympic swimming; there are no graceful dives in water this shallow. Everyone just kind of jumps in and starts moving, their usual awkward half-swimming run. Clarke had worried Bellamy would be at a disadvantage, not having done the previous sandbag challenge, but it occurs to her that Finn and Ilian haven’t done it either. And it’s not exactly hard to figure out; Roan still has a lead, but Bellamy’s in second, and it’s not always easy to tell which one of them has the lead.

The smart thing to do would be to not push her luck, to keep her head down and not bend the rules when she’s already gotten away with it once. If she keeps trying to game the system, they’re going to get kicked off.

On the other hand, isn’t that part of the point of reality shows? Gaming the system?

Her just carrying the bag herself is obviously against the rules, and she probably can’t get in the water either. What she can do, even if it’s not much, is give Bellamy his second bag a little earlier than he could get it himself.

She waits for as long as she can, not wanting to give the strategy away, but once he’s almost back, she grabs the bag and lies flat against the ground, stretching out as far as she can without overbalancing.

It’s not going to save him more than a couple feet, but every foot counts, and Clarke hates doing _nothing_ ; standing around cheering really isn’t her thing.

“You’re going to get us banished for cheating,” Bellamy huffs, fond.

It’s hard to tell, but she thinks it might put him in the lead.

Fox sees what she did and follows suit, which is probably good. No one but Roan had gotten their second bags yet, which means that everyone else tries to help their boyfriends out. Roan and Raven are the only ones who would have valid results if they said this wasn’t allowed, so they’d have to kick everyone else out.

She risks a glance at Anya while Bellamy is busy, and Anya just shakes her head, smiling a little.

They’re going to come up with a list of guidelines for next time, if they don’t get canceled. Jasper’s right, Clarke is leaving her mark.

Bellamy gets back to her before Roan gets to Raven, and she slides onto his shoulders. They’ve done this before, in college, playing chicken on spring break, but it’s been a while, and it takes a little while for her to get comfortable.

Luckily, Bellamy's not waiting for that. Once he's got her, he trusts her to be able to stay on him and get herself situated, as he should. 

“You've got this," she says, ruffling his hair.

"Thanks. If anyone gets close, you're going to fight them, right?"

Finn's still making his way back to pick up Fox, which means that if anyone wants to fight Bellamy, they'll actually have to run at him, and that's probably a waste of time. Roan's the only one who's close enough that he might want to start something, but he's not _physically_ close enough that it makes any sense.

If they don't get canceled, Clarke might write up a list of suggestions for them herself. They really could be capitalizing on the drama more, and sometimes it feels like they're actively avoiding it. Putting Roan in the middle was just a gimme.

Bellamy puts her on the edge of the cesspit at what's close enough to the same time as Roan puts down Raven that Clarke can't actually call it. The other three are still kind of clumped together, and Gaia _does_ start picking fights, giving Ilian enough of an advantage that he can pull ahead and get third.

Jasper nearly drops Maya, and even though he recovers, it's enough to bring him in last, and everyone just stands there for a long minute, catching their collective breath.

Then Gaia asks, "What is with you and sandbag challenges, Clarke?"

"I’m just trying to help! Besides, aren’t there always supposed to be tricks to these things?”

Raven shakes her head, but she doesn't look particularly upset about the photo finish. "Come on, they explain every challenge to within an inch of its life. If they wanted us to do something secretly, they'd explain it at least fifteen times and make us say it back to them."

"That's true," says Anya. "At least we got some fighting on this one."

"If you wanted us to fight, me and Clarke should have been next to each other," says Raven.

Clarke nods. "Yeah, we would have gone for it."

"I'll keep that in mind," says Anya. "Morpheus, Legatus, have you reviewed the footage and found the winner?"

"Sure, that's what we did," says Murphy. "We definitely found a winner. We didn't just flip a coin."

Anya seems pretty used to Murphy's bullshit; she doesn't even argue, just gets everyone lined up correctly for the reveal. Clarke’s curious how they called it, but it's hard to feel like it matters much. With no stakes for individual challenges and only five people left, Clarke has trouble believing Bellamy is going to go home before the games. Those, she can stress about. But there's no way he's going to be in the bottom for this.

Still, when Lincoln declares him the winner, Clarke throws her arms around him and kisses him, and everyone cheers. The rest of the rankings are no surprise--Roan, Ilian, Finn, and finally Jasper--and they're released until the banishment ceremony, as usual.

"It's not going to happen tonight," says Raven, sounding surprisingly confident. “No one’s going out.”

"Because they need four people for the games?"

"They don't want just three, and they can't get down to just two, so yeah."

"Does anyone else have an awkward ex they could bring in at the last minute?" Finn jokes. It doesn't entirely land, but it's a respectable attempt, and everyone else was thinking it, but he and Raven are really the only ones who could have said it.

They're still going to vote him off tonight if Clarke has anything to say about it, but he could be a lot worse.

"The final boss of _Bromans_ is every person your significant other has ever dated," says Jasper.

"Awesome," says Bellamy, with feeling, and Clark elbows him. "What? You have shitty taste in significant others. I’d fight plenty of them.”

"You know I'm dating you now, right?"

He pauses. "Yeah, but I'd definitely kick my own ass if I got the chance."

"And give up on the chance to hook up with yourself?" Roan asks. "That would be my first choice."

"I think that's some kind of personality test," Jasper puts in. "Like, what's the first thing you'd do with your clone. I'd probably play video games with mine.'

Raven's conviction that no one is going home tonight must have won everyone over, because they all seems happy to joke around about potentially having sex with their clones and how much better the food is today than yesterday. If Bellamy was potentially up for banishment, Clarke would still be fretting a little, but as it is, they're the only people who can't be banished even if it happens. It's easy to just have fun.

Besides, Finn's almost certainly going to be in the bottom. If there is an elimination, she thinks she knows how it's going to go.

As always, they get dressed up in what counts as their finest and make their way to the ceremony. Everything looks the same as always, with no obvious signs of anything special going on. Not that there was last time either, that Clarke can remember, but she was also kind of a nervous wreck last time.

"The ranks grow thin," says Murphy, looking between the five of them with a nod. "The emperor's games approach, but for one of our competitors tonight, all roads lead to home."

"Did you come up with that line and then build an entire show around it?" Clarke asks.

"Let's leave that for the viewers to decide. Bellamy, Roan, Ilian. The three of you have done well this day, and the emperor is pleased. Jasper, Finn. Your performances were unsatisfactory. Please step forward and explain why you deserve to stay."

"I mean," says Jasper, "honestly, at this point, I feel like you guys might as well bring me all the way to the games. I think we can all agree it's a miracle I've made it this far, and we should just stay on this train and see how far it can go. But, you know, obviously, if you want to vote based on merit and athletic ability, I've had a great time, and I'm glad you all let me play with you for as long as I have. Do what feels right. No hard feelings here."

Finn rubs the back of his neck. "I guess I'm the opposite of Jasper. I feel like I only just got here, and there's so much more I have to offer. Roan hasn't even gotten a chance to physically fight me yet."

"That is true," Roan agrees.

"I know that--it's been weird," he continues. "But I don't think it's my time to go yet. I think I've still got more to offer."

"So your decision is between _guy whom says he's been here longer than he deserves_ and _guy whom thinks he hasn't been here long enough_ ," says Murphy, and then pauses. “Nothing, Bellamy?"

"That was so bad I blacked out for a second," he says. "So thanks for that."

"Any time." He waves his hand vaguely. "Talk among yourselves, and we'll tell you where to go from here."

"Finn?" asks Clarke. "Or did the speeches change your mind?"

"Still Finn. Jasper's been here from the beginning, I think he deserves the chance to see it through. He's been in the bottom more than Finn, but he's also been in more challenges than Finn. If one of them has earned the chance to be in the finale, it's Jasper." He cocks his head. "Any counter-arguments?"

"You had me at voting out Finn," she says, and he just grins.

"Gladiators," says Murphy. "With only three of you left, I think this can be a little more transparent. Ilian," he says. "Your vote?"

Ilian startles, genuinely taken off guard. "What?"

"Come down, make your choice, and tell us why."

Up until now, banishment had been a private affair. Obviously, once the show airs, whatever they said about who they were banishing and why was going be out there, but they haven't discussed it among themselves. Once the ceremony is done, it's understood that decisions were made because they had to be made; no one has asked for explanations.

She can see Ilian swallow, and then he goes down to stand behind Finn.

"No offense to Finn or anything," he says. "And I know he hasn't been here for long, but that means I haven't seen him grow. Jasper's done so much, and I think he deserves the chance to see it through to the end."

Murphy nods. "Bellamy?"

Again, if they were a different show, they would have rigged this so that Bellamy voted to keep Finn and Roan was making the dramatic tiebreaker vote. As it is, Bellamy gets behind Finn too, so Roan's vote doesn't even matter.

"What Ilian said," says Bellamy. "Jasper's earned his spot here. Finn didn't really get the chance to, and that sucks for him, but if I can just keep one of them, it's Jasper."

Murphy nods. "Roan, the decision has been made for you, but I have to know--did you want Finn to stay so you could punch him?"

"This is more of a psychological punch," says Roan, joining Bellamy and Ilian behind Finn. “The emotional trauma will take years to fade.”

It's a unanimous vote to banish, which isn’t even really Finn's _fault_ ; it feels unavoidable. He's not only the new guy, but the new guy who hurt Raven. He was never going to get to stay.

"Fair enough," says Murphy. "Finn, your time as a gladiator is ended. I know you didn't come in here with nothing, but you still have to leave that way."

Finn takes off his toga, gold briefs sparkling in the firelight, and offers Fox his arm. He doesn't say anything as he leaves, doesn't look back. It's still not dignified, because of the sparkling gold briefs and the banner with his face on fire off to the side, but he probably did about as well as he possibly could appearing on a Roman-themed reality TV show with the woman he cheated on and dumped when he was eighteen.

Clarke puts her arm around Raven as they're walking back. "You okay?"

"What, with Finn? Yeah. Honestly, I'm more curious about what's going on next time. I really thought they were going to keep everyone around."

"It does feel like a waste," Clarke admits. "Maybe it'll be more dramatic in post."

"I assume we're going to be the mean girls who never gave Finn and Fox a chance to get into our clique, but I can live with that. It's not like I was expecting them to give me a hero edit."

"But you're good, right?"

"Until whatever bullshit we end up with tomorrow, same as always."

Clarke has to smile. "Yeah, can't wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going out of town for the weekend! I have the next chapter done so I'm hoping to get it up while I'm gone, but it's always hard to predict how travel will affect these things. thanks in advance for your patience!


	8. Episode 7

For the first time ever, there’s actual security at the exits from the villa when they get back.

“Wow, you guys are really cracking down on sex,” Raven remarks.

“We can just do it in our beds, at this point,” Roan adds. “We’re only at half capacity now, that’s close enough to privacy.” 

“Nothing to do with your sex lives,” says Monroe. “There’s a lot to prepare for the next few days, and we can’t have any of you snooping around.”

"The emperor's games aren't until next episode, right?" asks Jasper. "Are we already prepping?"

Monroe looks supremely unimpressed. "Do you actually think I'm going to tell you what's coming?"

"Honestly, it didn't seem totally impossible, I have no idea how you guys determine what we can and can’t know about."

Monroe considers this. "Yeah, I guess not. Whatever, I'm not giving anything away. Ask Anya if you want spoilers. Just don't try to sneak out, it would be a pain for us to have to discipline you."

"Is the primary motivating factor behind everyone working on this show laziness?" Jasper asks.

Monroe just shrugs, which does feel like confirmation. It's hard to imagine this being a passion project for any of the crew members--Bellamy cares more than anyone of them, with the possible exception of Anya.

Monroe leaves not long after that, and they're alone aside from the security guards. Complete privacy would be nice, but with only three other couples left, they’re at the point where she actually likes everyone who's still around. They sit around a fire drinking and playing Never Have I Ever, which is fun, and then just chatting about families and friends and the upcoming challenge.

"It's weird this is going to be over in a couple days," Gaia offers. "And then we just--go back to being people."

"Because we're not people now?" Ilian teases, gentle.

"You know what I mean. While we're here, it's like the whole world revolves around us. We're the stars. And after this, we go home and everything goes back to normal. Regular jobs, regular lives, and we can't even talk about what happened here for months. It's definitely going to be weird."

"Do you think things will be different?" Maya asks. "When we get back."

"I think so," says Roan. "Not in a bad way. We said before we came here that this experience would either drive us apart or bond us forever, and I think that's probably true. We thought it might drive a wedge between us, and I'm glad it hasn't."

"The couple that reality TVs together stays together?" Gaia teases.

"Yeah, that's not usually how it works," Jasper says. "I feel like being on reality TV usually kills relationships. I don't think any of the _Bachelor_ people are still married."

"They got together on TV," Raven says. "That's different. We didn't come on the show to find dates, we were already dating when we started."

"So the secret to _Bromans_ happiness is already being happy when you get here?" Bellamy asks. His tone is mild, but Clarke can't help a slight wince. They don't really feel like a reality-TV romance, certainly nothing like people who got together on a dating show, but he has been into her for a while, and her feelings only kicked into overdrive after they got here.

In his place, she might be worrying a little.

"I think the secret to _Bromans_ is that you guys aren't competing to win someone’s love," says Clarke. "And how well you do in the competition doesn't depend on falling for a stranger, just getting along with someone who already cares about you."

"Romantic," says Raven, dry. "But yeah, you're probably right. It's easier to keep dating someone on a reality TV show than find someone." She smirks at Clarke. "What about you guys? Do you think it's going to be different for you when you go home?"

Clarke presses a kiss to Bellamy's shoulder. "Definitely. It's going to be great."

He's still a little quiet through the rest of the night, but he's in good enough spirits that she doesn't think anyone else notices anything wrong. It gets chilly and they head back in, spreading out over the remaining beds so everyone has a little more privacy. She and Bellamy are next to against the wall, with two free beds between them and Raven and Roan, and it's still not as good as being alone, but it's close.

"You're not actually worried, are you?"

"I don't think this is a _Bachelor_ situation," he says, not even pretending to not know what she means. 

But he’s still not really answering, so she kisses his collarbone. “Bellamy.”

He sighs. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t think this is going to evaporate as soon as we leave the set. I don’t think you have reality TV brain or heightened emotions.”

“But.”

“But what Gaia said about being people again made sense to me. This is the weirdest honeymoon period ever, and once it’s done we’re going to have to go home and figure out what our lives look like now.”

She pulls back a little to look at him. “You really think it’s that different? I don’t want it to be.”

“No?”

“Pretty much exactly the same but with sex is what I was thinking.” She brushes her mouth against his. “It doesn’t have to be this giant thing.”

“It is, though.”

That’s undeniable. “It doesn’t have to be this giant _change_ ,” she corrects. “I love you, Bellamy. I’m not looking for my life to turn itself around. I just want you.”

“I know.” He sighs again, burying his face against her hair. “We have to tell everyone and O’s never going to let me live it down.”

“Sorry, did you want to break up with me so your sister won’t make fun of you?”

“Secret dating is a thing, right? We could do that.”

“We’d be terrible at that. We can’t keep our hands off each other. You don’t have to look for reasons to worry,” she adds. “We’re good right now. Just try to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy,” he says, leaning in to kiss her again. “Trust me.”

“Me too. It’s probably worth your sister teasing us.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I think I’ll live.”

*

“There has to be some weird twist coming,” Raven insists, the next morning. Clarke could point out that no one ever said there would be four people in the emperor’s games, but three does feel weird. And she’s not sure how she’d vote anyone out, at this point. It would feel too mean. The eight of them have been through so much together.

“It’s okay if you can’t actually guess what they’re going to do next,” she tells Raven. “I know you want to outsmart the show, but—“

“Hey, you don’t get to act like that’s just on me. You’re the one who keeps breaking the rules on challenges.”

“It’s not breaking a rule if they never told us we couldn’t!”

Raven snorts, shakes her head. “Yeah, never mind, that's totally a different thing."

"Maybe we get to be involved," Maya says. "It's not like there are actually only four people here now, there are eight of us."

"I wish they'd really taken advantage of us being here," Clarke says, pulling a face. "Battle couples would be cooler."

"Yeah, can we take however long we have before Morpheus shows up again to give you guys feedback on what to do if you get renewed?" Raven asks Monroe.

She shrugs. "I'm not going to say anyone's going to listen, but feel free to yell into the void."

"Same-sex couples," Clarke says, immediately, and then they're off. In their ideal world, _Bromans_ season two would take more advantage of opportunities for drama, stop worrying about gender differences, and adapt the format so all of the elimination challenges involve both team members. There can still be goofy stuff like sculpting boobs and trying to cook a meal, but they don't have to be _just_ for the girls.

"And you should hire Bellamy," Gaia says.

Clarke frowns. "What?" 

"He could be the historical consultant. Help them come up with cool, educational challenges."

"I'm pretty sure most people tuning into this show don't actually want to learn about ancient Rome," says Clarke. "And he'd probably tell them to hire an actual professional, not--him."

"He could learn," says Raven. "You know he wants to."

Clarke thinks this over. "I guess we could probably make it work. If the show wanted him.”

"It's so cute you think we're getting renewed," says Monroe. "But thanks for the feedback, I guess. We've got it all on camera, so someone will be forced to watch it."

"Happy to help." Raven looks around. "Where's Morpheus, anyway? Isn't he supposed to have something for us?"

"He has a lot going on. But he should be here soon. Have some wine."

"That's your answer to everything," Raven grumbles. But Maya still has cards, and they still have wine, and they spend the morning playing BS and getting mildly buzzed, just like in Roman times.

Murphy doesn't show up until after lunch, and for once, he brings supplies with him instead of having them come to him.

"You guys really are doing work out there, huh?" asks Raven.

"I'm not just trying to cockblock you. That's a bonus." He claps his hands. "All right, you don't have a ton of prepwork to do here, just want to let you figure out how everything works."

"What is everything?" asks Maya, wary.

"Tomorrow's going to be a big day. Legatus is training the guys hard, and they're going to need some R&R. You can take care of that, right?"

"I don't know if _nurturing_ is really in our collective wheelhouse," says Raven.

Clarke is looking at the supplies, though. "Does that say hair removal?"

"You want them to look their best too," says Murphy. "Just look around, see what you've got. You’re going to give them a spa day.”

Clarke knows more about Roman spas than she knows about most Roman things, in that she's read a lot of Jane Austen books, and they like to go to Bath, which she's pretty sure was once a Roman spa. It's not really a lot to go on, but the cart has labels for all the stations, and even diagrams of what they're supposed to do with the stuff, so it's not exactly rocket science to figure it out.

"So, we've got a couple different things to do," says Raven, looking at the diagrams. "I call hair removal."

"It's all yours," says Gaia. "You _want_ hair removal?"

"Have you seen how smooth Roan is? I have experience here, I know my way around a waxing station. What about you guys?"

"I give good massages," Maya volunteers, which leaves Clarke and Gaia to put together traditional Roman face masks out of what looks like the contents of a compost heap.

"Honestly, this isn't that much worse than things I've seen at spas now," Gaia says, poking at the raw eggs. "If Buzzfeed says it clears pores, people will put anything on their faces."

That much is definitely true, but the whole project is still more than a little gross. They have to mix together all their compost, and while they don't have to put it on their own faces, Clarke's still not excited to interact with it.

The guys look exhausted when Murphy brings them in, as if they've been put through the ringer. So, of course, he introduces the whole thing with, "Welcome to Spa Brome. We thought you guys could use some pampering."

Everyone cheers, the poor, trusting bastards, and Raven has to interrupt. "Don't get too excited. It's going to turn out okay, but you have to get through me first."

"Are you going to fight us?" asks Jasper. He sounds genuinely terrified by the prospect, and Clarke can't blame him. She might rather fight Roan than Raven, even knowing Raven has zero combat experience. She radiates competence like no one else Clarke has ever met.

"Nope, I'm going to take all the hair off your bodies."

There's a pause, and then Roan says, "Perfect, I've been feeling a little stubbly."

In theory, the guys could be doing other things while they wait for Raven to be free, but it seems like no one really wants to get a massage and then have her rip whatever hair she can find off their most private areas, so they just wait in an orderly line. Once Roan is done, he moves on to let Clarke and Gaia give him his face mask, and then he gets a nice massage, listening to Jasper's yelps as Raven works on him.

"Relaxing isn't exactly the first word I'd pick," Bellamy murmurs, once he gets to her. "But I've never been more grateful to not grow a ton of body hair."

"Not being able to grow a beard is finally paying off."

Even with his eyes closed and most of his skin under the face mask, Clarke can see him scowl. "I could grow a beard."

She smooths his hair off his forehead so she can put some goop on it. "Of course you could."

"I'm going to now, just to prove it to you."

"Whatever you want. How was training today?"

"There are only four of us, so Legatus can really give us all a lot of attention."

"And you need to be ready for the games. Things are getting serious on _Bromans_."

"Honestly, they kind of are. This is a lot more intense than my regular gym routine."

"You're doing great."

"Thanks. I still need to get to the games, though. And they're doing something big for tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's why we've got the spa here. Any idea what it's going to be?"

"I assume this is when we fight lions, we haven't done that yet."

"That definitely would have been in the release forms somewhere. After the nudity clause, I assume."

"You're going to be naked and you're going to fight a lion," Bellamy agrees. "The full gladiator experience." He sighs. "I honestly have no idea. They're being pretty careful about what they show us, so I think we must be doing something outside of the regular arena. It feels like they're making a bigger deal of this than the finale, which is weird."

"Yeah. You're going to be fine, though."

"I am, yeah. But it would be cool if we won and got to go to Rome."

"We could still save up and just go. This won't be our only chance."

That gets a smile out of him. "Yeah, it won't. But I'd rather win."

"Me too. I'd kiss you, but you smell terrible right now."

"Thanks, that really helps."

"I was being supportive earlier."

"You were. And you are putting weird smelly crap on my face, which I assume is going to open up my pores or something."

She kisses his hair, as a compromise. "Best girlfriend ever."

"So far, yeah," he agrees. "I've got no complaints."

*

Security is back outside that night as well, and Clarke doesn't think she and Bellamy are the only ones starting to feel the tension. It's rare enough for the show to give a shit that when they do, it's hard not to get swept up in that. Whatever the penultimate challenge is, it's going to be big.

They have a tense, quiet breakfast. Clarke doesn't think it's because of the competition, really--she wants Bellamy to win, but she's less worried about who's going home and more about what they'll have to do. The challenges haven't been bad recently, and Clarke's been in a good mood because she's got an actual boyfriend and has been getting periodic orgasms, which is pretty great, and this feels like a wake-up call.

Maybe they've been doing it on purpose; maybe this was all to get them to this moment. A deliberate calm before the storm.

At least they don't have to wait long. Just after breakfast, basically _everyone_ shows up--not just Lincoln, but Murphy, Anya, Monroe, and a few other producers and crew members. 

"This isn't the emperor's games, is it?" Bellamy asks. "I thought those weren't until next time."

"This is your final trial before you make it to the games," says Lincoln. "You still have to prove yourselves. Gladiators, you'll come with me to prepare. You won't see your girlfriends again until the banishment ceremony tonight, so say your goodbyes now."

Clarke frowns. "Seriously?"

"Questions waste time," Lincoln says, and steps away to give them some privacy.

She turns her attention to Bellamy. "Whatever's happening, be smart, be patient, and try not to get into one-on-one fights if you can avoid it. Don't get eaten by a lion."

He smiles, sliding his arms around her waist. "Wow, life hacks."

"You've got this."

"I've got this," he agrees, and leans down to kiss her, long and slow. "I guess I'll see you tonight."

"I love you." The words are still new, a little awkward, but she _does_ love him. That's simple.

He kisses her one more time. "I love you too. If you've got something to do, you're going to kick its ass."

And then, with one final squeeze of her hand, he’s gone, and Murphy takes over.

“The emperor has prepared special accommodations for you, so you’ll have the best view. Follow me.”

As they walk through the set, it’s clear how much has changed. Store fronts have been closed and sealed, alleys partially or fully blocked. Clarke doesn’t know what to make of it, but it’s clear that whatever they’re doing goes beyond the arena.

“Battle royale?” Raven asks.

“It’s weird to do it for this challenge. Why not wait until the finale?”

“I bet there’s more than four people in this,” Raven says, and that proves to be the right guess. Murphy brings them up to a terrace overlooking the arena and Ontari is already there, along with Bree, whom it takes Clarke a second to place. It’s been a while, and they didn’t really know her for that long.

“Ladies,” says Murphy. “As you can see, we’ll need your boyfriends to solve a puzzle.”

Clarke looks to the arena for the first time, and it’s nothing like it was before, startling in its total transformation. They’ve built an actual _maze_ there, like they actually rooted around in Bellamy’s subconscious and found all his childhood fantasies. He totally wanted to solve a labyrinth.

“The gladiator’s banners are in the middle of the arena,” Murphy continues, and Clarke can see those too, right in the center. They're surrounded by a fairly large open area. It looks like the kind of place where they usually fight, so Clarke can't help being a little wary when Murphy says, “All they have to do is get to them.”

“Two of them don’t have banners,” Raven points out, looking at Ontari and Bree. “Legatus lit them up.”

“There are many dangers in the labyrinth,” says Murphy. “Dax and Riley are two of them. All the gladiators have ankle cuffs. If Dax or Riley gets the cuff and brings it to a banner, they’ll take the gladiator’s place in the games. If a gladiator loses his cuff, he'll have the chance to remain in the labyrinth and try to get the cuff off someone else and claim a banner."

"So they just keep going until four people get to the middle of the labyrinth with an ankle cuff?" Clarke asks.

"That's the general idea. We've got you guys hooked up to the mics so you can hear what they're saying, but they won't be able to hear you, so you can't tell them what's going on. You've got about half an hour before they start, so talk among yourselves."

Raven rests her back against the railing, watching Ontari and Bree. "So, how did you guys get back?"

"Loser's bracket," says Ontari. "There was a whole other side-game going on when you were busy."

"Which would be why they kept telling us not to leave," says Raven. "Once there got to be enough people to be doing challenges, the set must have been doing double duty."

Ontari nods. "We were told the emperor was considering giving some of us another chance, if we were willing to fight for it. A lot of it was at night, or while you all were somewhere else."

"So, six gladiators go in and four come out," says Raven, turning around to survey the battlefield instead. "And they have to get to the banners to be done."

"Can you see where they're going to start?" Clarke asks. "They must all be in different places."

"It sounded like Riley and Dax might be in the maze to start with," Raven says, frowning. "Morpheus made them sound more like traps."

"Yeah, they can't win unless they beat someone else up, so they need some help."

"Probably." She glances at Raven, who's still looking out over the town with sharp eyes. "How do you think this is for Roan? As a challenge."

"Not bad, probably. I'm wondering about timeline."

"Timeline?"

"They think it's going to take a while. We started early, and they said we're not going to see them until the banishment. How long is this supposed to take? You think they're really going to be in there all day?"

"Maybe they're planning on a lot of reshoots," Clarke admits. "This is clearly their big dramatic setpiece."

"They should hire all of us as consultants next year, we'd have so many good ideas for them. I'm not sure how this one is going to go over."

"I'm on the edge of my seat," says Clarke, mouth twisting, and Raven smiles.

"He'll be fine. Four people are going to the games, so that means he and Roan can team up, if they find each other."

"Roan wants to beat him in the finals, huh?"

Raven bumps her shoulder. "That's how it should be, right? The two of them right at the end?"

It feels a little unfair to everyone else, but they aren't paying attention anyway. And it's not like she'll be upset, if someone else ends up in the finals. 

Okay, if Riley is in there and Bellamy isn't, she'll be pissed. But Raven's right; with four people, it feels unlikely that either Roan or Bellamy will get knocked out. They've been two of the best, week-to-week.

She leans against Raven, watching the crew’s preparations in the city below them. “Yeah,” she says. “That’s how it should be.”

*

How it actually is, at least to start, is pretty boring. The crew has a decent audiovisual setup for them, not just mics but feeds to the cameras that are following each of the guys. As she and Raven theorized, Dax and Riley are starting inside the maze itself, while the four finalists are in the corners of town, having to make their way through the winding streets before they reach the real challenge. They’re going slowly, cautious, unsure when they’ll encounter other people, and it makes sense, but it’s also the worst combination of boring and stressful. Nothing is happening, but it always _could_ , and it makes Clarke feel itchy under her skin.

She steps away from the TVs to look out over the city itself, unfiltered.

They aren’t actually that far from the arena; the problem with seeing what's going on isn’t distance, but barriers. She’s not high enough to see over city walls, so she doesn’t know where any of the guys are. She can see Dax and Riley, looking for the center, but even if they find it, they won’t have anything to do there for a little while. Until the gladiators with ankle cuffs show up, they can’t win.

Jasper comes out of his own tangle of streets first, and when he sees the maze, Clarke hears him say, “Fuck, seriously?” on the TV behind her.

“Be _quiet_ ,” Maya mutters.

It occurs to Clarke that she has no idea what the gladiators actually know. They must know Dax and Riley are around and how to win or lose, but maybe Jasper thought he was already in the maze. He wasn’t expecting to find even more to have to navigate.

Clarke can’t actually blame him; for a show about fighting, this is a lot of labyrinth. But it’s probably going to work pretty well on screen.

Jasper finds the entrance to the maze and runs in, and Clarke can only see him in spots again, depending on the angle. 

“Maya, can you go talk to Clarke?” asks Monroe. “We need footage of you watching.”

Maya leans against the railing, and Clarke points Jasper out for her.

“I’d feel better if he wasn’t the first,” she admits. “If he got in after everyone else, he could probably sneak past the fighting. But if he loses his cuff, I don’t know if he could get another one.”

"Maybe he'll get to the banners before Dax and Riley do," Clarke offers, not mustering much optimism.

Maya doesn't seem to mind; she can't muster much either. "Maybe."

Before she can come up with any more words of comfort, Clarke spies Bellamy emerging into the labyrinth clearing, pausing to take in the surroundings before he makes his next move. He doesn't say anything, and from this distance, Clarke can't see his expression, but her heart is still in her throat.

Roan would be his best ally, but if he can get there, he and Jasper can still help each other out. If the two of them make it in first--

"Oh no," Maya breathes.

Some of the others have joined them at the railing, Clarke realizes, and she sees Bellamy go into the labyrinth himself before turning her attention to the center, where both Dax _and_ Riley are waiting for Jasper.

They might not know how he'll come in, but they have plenty of time to get to him before he can claim his banner.

"If Bellamy gets there in time, he'll help," Clarke says. 

"If he doesn't get there in time, Jasper wouldn't be on his side anymore," Maya shoots back, and Clarke winces. Maya's not wrong; there are always going to be two people who want to get a cuff. All other things being equal, the four remaining gladiators would favor each other over Dax and Riley, but it's going to stop being equal soon.

"Then I hope he gets there in time," Clarke says, leaning forward.

"Roan's at the labyrinth," Raven says, pointing to him.

"Ilian got turned around, I think," says Gaia. She's checking between the area in front of them and the TVs. "So if he shows up last--"

"I'm not sure there's a great time to show up," Clarke admits. Maya was probably right, and trying to get through while everyone else is distracted is the smartest move, but if Bellamy shows up to find a fight going on, he'll probably feel obligated to wade in and help whatever allies he has surviving in it.

At least if he goes home, he'll go home with some dumbass self-sacrificial nonsense. It's what he'd want.

"Bellamy might beat Jasper to the middle," says Ontari.

"He might," Clarke agrees, stomach in knots. Bellamy couldn't beat Dax one-on-one before; she's not sure how he'd manage with both Dax and Riley, especially when they're just waiting for someone to show up.

"Wait," says Gaia. "I think--"

"Bellamy," Clarke hears Jasper say, in a whisper, and she turns to the camera to see his screen and Bellamy's starting to match up as Jasper catches him.

"Hey," says Bellamy, low. "You seen anyone else?"

"Not yet. I've just been lost."

There's a pause; Clarke can see Bellamy's face clearly now that there's a conversation happening. The cameras want to get this. "Dax and Riley are both in the middle," he says. "I've been killing time, I didn't want to go in there alone."

"Dude, the producers heard that," Clarke hears Miller say. "They're going to make you go now."

"They were going to figure it out soon anyway." He pulls a face. "I don't have a good plan."

"How about a bad one?"

"I can't tell if you're asking or offering."

There's a long pause, and then Jasper says, "Let me go in first."

"And then what?"

"One of them gets my spot, and I'm there to stop the other one from getting anyone else's."

Bellamy's jaw works. "What."

"I know why I'm still here, okay? It's because you and everyone else let me stick around. You decided I deserved to see it through, and that's awesome. But I can be done here, I don't mind."

"You're going to sacrifice yourself so I make it through?"

"You and anyone else I can help out."

"Jasper," says Maya, soft, and Gaia puts her arm around her shoulders.

"That's sweet, though," she says. "He gets to be a hero."

"I could go first," Bellamy says. "Do that for you."

"What, and let you get all the martyr glory? No way. Besides, I'm pretty sure if I let you go down to save me, Clarke would kick my ass, and then I wouldn't be able to participate in the games anyway."

"If we both lost--"

"Bellamy. There's no way I'm letting Riley go to the games instead of you. Come on, _Riley_? Who even remembers him? Just let me have this, okay? This is unquestionably the coolest thing I'm could possibly do on this show. I'm not going to win, so let me have a badass, slow-motion fight scene while I save you. You got that?" he adds, to the camera. "I want you to sell the shit out of these. If I lose any teeth, I want to see them flying at the screen. It should be available in 3D."

Bellamy's still looking less than totally pleased, but Clarke thinks he's not going to fight it any more. If this was a life or death situation, it would be different, but it's _Bromans_. And she's pretty sure he really does believe he deserves to keep going.

"Thanks," he finally says, and Jasper offers his hand.

"My pleasure."

Once the decision is made, they don't wait. Bellamy directs Jasper to the center of the labyrinth and lets him go. Roan's making his way through, but he's nowhere near Bellamy and Jasper, from what Clarke can tell. It's still hard to see, but--

Jasper bursts into the central chamber at a run, and Dax and Riley both go for him. It hadn't occurred to Clarke that it would be awkward for them too, but they're not actually a team. They both want Jasper's ankle cuff, so it's not actually two-on-one, it's every man for himself.

Except for Bellamy. Bellamy has a team behind him, not just Jasper, but Miller too. Jasper's camera person followed him into the arena, staying on the edge of the sand pit but still conspicuous.

But Miller seems to be lingering in the entryway, judging from the way Bellamy is getting farther and farther away from him, not drawing attention by following him in. And Bellamy's being smart about it, sticking to the wall, moving as quickly as he feels he can without being noticed, but Clarke still can't quite breathe as she watches him.

It matters _so little_. The money would be nice, of course, but even if he gets through this, he might not win. And after taxes, it won't even be that much money. The stakes are low, but Clarke wants this for him.

Like Jasper said, he deserves it.

Dax gets Jasper's ankle cuff off with a cry of triumph, and Jasper pounces on him just as Riley notices Bellamy off to the side.

He and Bellamy start running at the same time, and Dax takes advantage of the moment to go for the banners himself, glancing behind him, waiting for an assault from Jasper that never comes, because he tackles Riley instead.

"What the fuck?!" Riley asks.

"I'm out," says Jasper, sounding smug. "Bellamy's in."

And it's true; Bellamy is on the pedestal in the middle of the maze, at his banner, the first gladiator to make it into the emperor's games.

"That was honestly pretty cool," Maya says, into the somewhat stunned silence on the terrace. "As heroic moments go."

"Yeah," Raven agrees. "The coolest."

*

Maybe Clarke is just biased, but she can't help thinking the rest of the challenge is a little anti-climactic after that. Jasper's plan continues to work, and the biggest issue he faces is conveying to Roan and Ilian what's going on, so they know to just run for the banners while Jasper holds Riley off. But he manages, and it's not even that late by the time the four finalists emerge: Bellamy, Dax, Roan, and Ilian, just like Jasper promised.

Just like Lincoln promised, they don't see the guys for the rest of the day, though. They have interviews, not just about this challenge, but about _all_ the challenges, talking about their various memories, like they're cleaning up loose ends. Given it's only been about two weeks, in total, it's amazing how hard it is to remember specifics, but they've been _busy_.

Dinner is quiet and a little awkward, Maya and Bree distant, Ontari off on her own, and Clarke, Raven, and Gaia a little awkward about being in the winner's circle.

None of them really did anything to deserve this; they weren't even moral support.

The tension doesn't break until they get to the actual banishment, which Clarke wasn't expecting, but there's no question of who's going home--Jasper and Riley are already apart from the group, heads down, looking somber--and it's just so _absurd_ , all at once. They barely even know Riley, and Jasper did the reality-TV equivalent of a heroic sacrifice, so the emotional investment is all out of whack, with everyone caring too little about one person and too much about the other. Jasper's the first one to snicker, and then Bree starts, and then they all lose it, the gladiators in the stands and the women walking toward them, and they all laugh for so long that they have to restart the take entirely, to retain something like continuity.

"This is the weirdest fucking show," says Raven, and Clarke just shakes her head.

"Is that out of your systems?" Murphy asks. They chorus agreement, and he nods. "Good. This is serious business, okay? They're getting banished."

"Again," says Bellamy. "For Riley."

"Banished even harder," Murphy says. "Let's get the entrance done so I can give my speech. It's awesome."

They come in again, without laughing this time, and Clarke finds her place next to Bellamy. It hasn't been that long, but she _has_ missed him; the TV thing really is messing with her head.

He puts his arm around her and kisses her hair, so at least she's not the only one.

"Bromans," Murphy says, with a solemnity Clarke hasn't heard from him before. "We have come to the end of our journey. Ahead of us, we see the emperor's games. Behind us, we see the warriors whom we have left behind."

"Holy shit, that was right," Bellamy breathes.

"Just for you." He straightens, continues. "Jasper, Riley. You have fought well, and leave with heads held high. But you still leave as banished men. I will ask that you leave as you arrived."

They strip, and Clarke manages to not laugh. Lincoln raises the torch, but doesn't light anything up yet. Instead, he calls, "Vade in pace!"

Clarke doesn't know the translation, but it's obvious what it _means_. They all do.

"Vade in pace!" they repeat, and Lincoln sets the banners--Jasper's, and a new one for Riley--ablaze.

Jasper holds up his hand in farewell, and they all hold their hands up back, and it might, somehow, actually be kind of moving. Even with the gold briefs.

"This is the weirdest fucking show," she passes along to Bellamy, as they make their way back to the villa.

He smiles, shakes his head, all fond amusement. "Yeah," he agrees. "I can't wait to see how it turns out."


	9. Episode 8

As is traditional after any kind of emotional banishment, they all get very drunk that night. Dax and Ontari remain a little awkward, interlopers who knocked a friend out of the competition, but Roan is careful to offer them some wine and welcome them into the group, and they accept it.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says, once they all have enough wine in them. "If anything, Jasper was the one who was out of line. He went against the spirit of the competition."

Bellamy snorts. "Yeah, how dare he. But Roan's right," he adds. "No one's mad at you for wanting to take the spot. I would have done the same thing in your place."

"He definitely surprised us," Dax says. "Jasper."

"Yeah, he surprised all of us," Bellamy agrees. "What did they have you guys doing?"

Dax talks them through the losers' bracket format, which put much more emphasis on training than challenges. All five of them had been candidates to return, and Dax and Riley had been the winners of the midnight games they held over the last few days, although they hadn't known they would be coming back until this morning. 

As twists go, Clarke doesn't know how effective it will be, but she has to admit the labyrinth definitely brought the drama. At least from her perspective.

They turn in early, everyone worn out and nervous, but Clarke and Bellamy still manage to get each other off in a muffled, hurried manner. It's not the best sex she's ever had, but it's still fun, and it relieves some of the tension. And they've got plenty of time to have the best sex she's ever had once they're off this show and not worrying about being filmed or overheard.

"Are you good?" she asks him, once they've settled in to actually sleep. It feels like they haven't checked in like this in a while, not since they stopped lying about being together.

"Ready for it to be over, honestly. Not--I don't want to get kicked off. I just want to see it through and be done."

She twists around to kiss him. "Good news, you're going to."

He smiles in the dark. "Yeah, I am."

*

"Girls, you have the morning off," Murphy says, after breakfast. "But don't get too wasted, you have a challenge this afternoon."

"An actual challenge?" Raven asks.

"With stakes and everything. Boys, you're coming with me."

"With you?" asks Bellamy. "Where's Legatus?"

"He's got a surprise for you. I wouldn't want to ruin it. Look, it's not like you're not going to go, so I don't really see why you're asking questions. Come on."

It's a valid point; Bellamy can sass all he wants, but it doesn't really matter. They're all-in on all of this weirdness, and they're going to do whatever Murphy and the producers tell him to.

This is their life now, apparently.

"Do you think it's really a good surprise?" Gaia asks.

"At this point, I think they've earned one," says Raven. “They’re in the finals, right? This should be when they get nice things.”

“The last time they were supposed to get nice things, you ripped all the hair off their bodies,” Clarke points out.

She just shrugs. "I let them keep the hair on their heads, it's not like they're _bald_. And all of them already knew how to wax, just not on camera. They were fine.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t get a bikini wax when I want to treat myself to some relaxing fun.”

Raven snorts, conceding the point, and they drift into silence by the pool.

“Talk about how proud you are,” Monroe prompts.

“I always knew Roan was going to make it,” says Raven. “That’s not being cocky!" she adds, when Gaia pokes her with her foot. "He was never in the bottom, I never had to worry."

“He almost was on the slingshot challenge,” Clarke can't help pointing out.

“And Bellamy was up for banishment on the wrestling. You still knew he’d make it, right?”

She shifts a little. “I thought you guys might vote to get rid of him. Although then I guess he could have come back in the loser bracket.”

“We weren’t going to banish you guys,” Raven says. “Roan wants to beat Bellamy fair and square.”

Admittedly, the one time they went up against each other, Roan did beat him, but it didn’t feel like this great display of fighting prowess. Roan just held Raven up longer than Bellamy held Clarke up. And Bellamy’s beaten him other times, just not one-on-one. She wouldn't be surprised if both of them want to be the last two in the finals, to go up against each other to determine the ultimate winner.

“I wanted him to get this far,” she says, pulling her attention back to the conversation. “And I want him to win, obviously. But I know just getting to the finals is huge for him.”

She means it even before the guys get back after only an hour, but when she sees him, she knows this is, if not the _real_ prize, one hell of a bonus.

They’re wearing _armor_.

“Did you ask for yours to show off your midriff, or did Legatus just know?” Raven asks Roan as they all stand and go over to check out the new outfits.

“He knew. He told me that it won’t be that effective in armed combat, but he thought this is how I’d want it.”

“Yeah, you’d rather get stabbed in the gut than deprive the world of your abs.” She traces the ridges of the armor, whistles. “This is actually really nice. Well made."

Bellamy’s provides full coverage, not surprisingly. It’s dark brown and might be real leather, thick strips layered over his shoulders and chest, not bullet proof or anything, but high quality and solidly built.

“It’s not that accurate,” he says. “It looks like legion armor, but theirs was metal, and—“

“Bellamy,” she says, fond, and his expression melts into sheepish happiness.

“It’s really cool,” he admits. "I'm going to want to wear it all the time."

Clarke leans up to kiss him, the texture of the armor a little strange against her bare skin, but she’s going to have to get used to kissing him with clothing on soon.

They’re almost done, after all.

“So, you get to keep it?” she asks.

“My Broman souvenir, yeah.”

“So even if you don’t win, this is pretty awesome.”

“Amazing, yeah.” His mouth twitches up at one side, her favorite lopsided smile. “I still want to win.”

Her fingers trace his armor, and then his arm, letting the cameras get a good hero shot. “Yeah,” she agrees. “Let’s do that.”

*

It feels like a personal blessing that her last challenge is at the cesspit. Not that Clarke thinks she's favored at cesspit challenges--she's won or helped win two, but only because she bent the rules--but it's still her favorite place, and she'd be sad to not see it again before she left.

"Hey, sandbags," says Raven. "Time for Clarke to figure out how to cheat."

"It's not cheating if they don't tell you it's against the rules," Clarke says, and Raven grins at her.

"I think Clarke will have to play fair this time," says Anya, dry. "But she may surprise us yet. This should be straightforward--you all know the drill by now. There are three bags, and you have to get two of them back to your pedestal. Only one bag at a time, and no one is allowed to help you. If you want to get the bag away from your competitor, you have to earn it. The winners of the first round will go on to compete against each other for the prize."

"What is the prize?" asks Ontari.

"You'll get to pick your boyfriend's first opponent in the emperor's games."

It's an advantage to be sure, but not such a big one that Clarke thinks she _has_ to win. She wants to, obviously, but if she doesn't, it's not going to be an issue for Bellamy. Whoever he goes up against first, he'll be fine. The challenge is a much bigger hurdle than his opponent; she's not even sure whom she'd pick.

She can figure it out if she wins.

"The first round will be Clarke versus Ontari and Gaia versus Raven," Anya continues. "Raven, we need to check your leg in the water first. I know you said it wasn't be a problem, but--"

"Yeah, I'm with you," she says, with a shrug. "I don't want to lose because it turns out I can't run in the water."

Raven slides into the pool and tries out moving, making sure that she's comfortable and safe. One of the security personnel even gets in with her so they can wrestle a little, nothing too intense, but just letting Raven try fighting her off and making sure that nothing goes wrong. It's easy for Clarke to forget about Raven's leg, because while she's sure it _does_ give Raven trouble sometimes, Raven's good at not showing it. But no one wants to beat Raven by taking advantage of her bad leg, any more than Raven wants to lose to it, so it's probably a good reminder for everyone.

_Fair and square_ hasn't exactly been Clarke's brand in the cesspit, but she'd never try to win like that.

Once Raven and Anya are both satisfied with her performance, Raven gets out of the water and Clarke and Ontari get to their pedestals, ready for the battle.

"Begin!" shouts Anya, and Clarke throws herself into the water with abandon, getting a head start by virtue of giving no shits about being cautious. She hears, with some distant part of her brain, Bellamy's cheering, but if he's saying anything specific, her brain isn't processing it. He's rooting for her; that's all she needs to know. She gets the first bag and doesn't let herself wish she could get the second at the same time, puts all her focus on getting her bag back as quickly as possible.

Once she's dropped it off, she takes a second to scope things out. Ontari's on her way back to her pedestal still, which means that she'll come for Clarke as soon as she can.

But all she has to do is not let her wrestle the bag away. Clarke's good at holding on.

Ontari catches her about halfway back to her pedestal, and she's as relentless as Clarke is stubborn. Clarke manages to drag them most of the rest of the way, but with Ontari wrapped around her, she can't get the bag up for the win. From what she can tell, Ontari is hoping to wear her out and possibly drown her, which isn't the worst idea, but would also take _forever_ , so Clarke stops fighting fast, not wanting to use her energy up. Her plan is to lull Ontari into a false sense of security, but every time she so much as twitches, Ontari's ready for it, fighting back tooth and nail.

She has no concept of how long it takes; time loses all meaning. She knows that she's cold and tired but she's not going to give up on _this_. She might lose a fight, but she's not going to lose an endurance contest.

There's no real rhyme or reason to the moment she decides to act. Maybe she feels Ontari slump a little more; maybe she just gets too impatient. When she moves, she does it all at once, abrupt and all-in, and Ontari isn't expecting it, or she really is worn out. She tries to hold on, but Clarke's slippery, and Ontari is just a little slow. She drops the bag onto to the pedestal and slumps forward, panting and exhausted.

"Worth a try," says Ontari, collapsing next to her, and Clarke manages a laugh.

"It was a good one."

She distantly hears splashing, but she's somehow surprised when Bellamy makes it to her, pulling her arm over his shoulders and tugging her close so he can drag her out of the water.

"Jesus, you could have just lost."

"Have you met me?"

He laughs and presses a kiss to her mouth. "I have, yeah. That was amazing."

"How long was it?"

"No idea. You know you have to do another round, right?"

"Yeah. Raven's going to kick my ass, I'm so done."

He squeezes her again, and Raven and Roan bend down to help pull her out while Gaia and Ilian get Ontari up and out of the water.

"Fuck, I didn't know you wanted it that much," Raven teases.

"Like you don't."

Her smile is like a shark's. "I didn't know we both did."

Bellamy tugs Clarke aside to get her a very anachronistic towel, wrapping her up and rubbing the fabric against her arms, smiling down at her with something like awe. "Are you okay?"

"Tired."

"Yeah." He tugs her back against his chest, wrapping her up in his arms so they can watch as Raven and Gaia get ready. "That was really fucking cool."

"All I did was stay still."

"Trust me, it was cool."

"Thanks." She offers her hand to Ontari, and they shake. "Good job."

"You too."

The rest of the matches are much less dramatic. Raven beats Gaia without much of a fight, and Clarke's not convinced she would have had much of a chance in the finals even at her best. But exhausted and still a little shaky from the first round, she just gets crushed. Raven is a strong swimmer and gets the bag before Clarke does, and Clarke does her best to wrestle it away, but it's a token effort at best.

Bellamy hauls her out of the water and kisses her anyway. "She'd kick my ass too," he murmurs, and she smiles.

"Sorry I can't pick your opponent."

"It's fine. After that, I'm not letting anyone beat me."

Clarke laughs, tucking her face against his neck. "Yeah, you better not."

*

In theory, Clarke has had seven mornings on the set of _Bromans_ that could have been her last, as far as she knew. She was always aware that Bellamy could get banished, but it's different to wake up and _know_ it's the last day. No matter who wins, no matter what happens, this is the end. This is her last morning waking up in this bed, surrounded by these people.

Like Gaia said, after this, they go back to being people.

"We're going to have to decide whose bed to keep," she murmurs to Bellamy's collarbone. It's not her last day waking up with him, but it is their last day waking up exactly like this, and that's a little melancholy too. 

"Yours is nicer. I need to go to the bathroom," he adds, rolling out of bed with no appreciation for the gravity of the situation at all.

Clarke flops onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. It's not going to be bad, getting out of here. It'll be nice to not be on camera all the time, and to get to wear actual clothing again, instead of just bikinis and dresses, and to be able to settle into really dating Bellamy, instead of whatever semi-limbo this is. 

But she will miss it too. It's been fun.

"So, it's gonna be three rounds, right?" says Raven, over breakfast. "To really make it feel like an event."

Clarke nods. "One person eliminated per round?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Who are you going to put Roan against in the first round?"

She taps her jaw, thinking it over. It's just the two of them and Gaia currently at the pool--everyone else is still getting breakfast--and of course it's not _private_ , because nothing is, but they're not going to be overheard this minute.

Not that it matters, because her answer is, "Ilian. Sorry."

Gaia shrugs. "I hope he kicks Roan's ass at whatever they do."

"Yeah, that checks out," says Raven, grinning.

"What if it's another slingshot contest?" Clarke teases.

"I don't know why you're joking about that, Bellamy went down wrestling Dax. His odds of having to do that again are pretty good. Especially since I'm putting Roan up against Ilian. That means round one is Bellamy and Dax."

"Here's hoping he learned something," says Clarke.

Raven considers this. "Yeah, I guess that's the goal."

Clarke's expecting to get taken away right after breakfast, like they were for the last challenge, but Murphy shows up with a cart full of what look like flower pots and starts setting them up in the courtyard.

"We've got the games after lunch, so I figure you guys can use all the good luck you can get, right? We're going to have each of you make a fascinum, and yes, Bellamy, I said it that way because I didn't want to figure out how to do a Latin plural."

To Clarke's surprise, Bellamy doesn't have a snappy retort; in fact, when she looks at him, all the blood has drained out of his face. "Seriously?" he asks.

Murphy gives him an impressed look. "Huh, I wasn't sure you were gonna have that one off the top of your head."

"I took Latin in high school, that one was a big hit with everyone. Big reactions."

"Cool," says Murphy. "You can share with the rest of the class."

Bellamy rubs his face. "Seriously?" he asks again.

"It's an important part of Roman culture."

"Spill," Clarke adds, elbowing him.

"We're making penis charms."

Everyone takes a second to take that in, but they only have a second; as soon as he's processed the words, Roan has stood, ripped his underwear off, and proclaimed, "My time has come!"

"I'm going to marry him," Raven says, resigned, and Murphy just hands him a flower pot.

"That's not ready for your dick yet, but, come on, I don't want to see that. Cover it up."

“I can’t believe you’re hosting this show if you're not into naked guys,” Clarke says.

“Yeah, I’m asexual, I get nothing out of any of this fan service. I’m just in it for the love of the game.”

“Not the money?” Raven asks.

“Not with this budget.” He claps his hands. “Okay, everyone ready to fuck a pot of plaster?”

That’s not exactly what happens, but it's close. They fill the pots up with the same plaster they used for their busts before, and the guys pretty much just stick their dicks in there. Clarke can’t help being glad she and Bellamy got their shit together before this point; she hasn’t gotten to really sit down and spend as much time with his dick as she’d like yet, but at least she’s familiar with it. It would have been pretty unfortunate if this was her first time really interacting with his penis.

“This was really a thing?” Raven asks. She’s trying to act normal, which is admittedly probably easier for her than the rest of them. Roan is the only person who's actually enjoying this. “In Rome?”

“They were pretty into dicks, yeah. Like I said, that was pretty much how my high-school Latin teacher got the rest of the class interested in learning more about Roman culture."

“Not you?” asks Gaia.

He tries to shrug, but he’s holding a flower pot on his dick, so it’s a little awkward. Or a lot awkward. “My mom really liked classics, she used to read me mythology and history when I was growing up. I was probably the only kid who was really excited to finally be able to take Latin, like I always wanted to.”

“So you were always a nerd,” says Raven.

“Consistency is good, right?”

“Okay,” says Murphy. “That should be long enough. Next up, fill the mold and let it set. We’re doing interviews while we wait, so you won’t be bored, don’t worry.”

“You’re not helping,” Bellamy grumbles.

“Whom said I was trying? Just fill up the dick mold.”

“ _Dick mold_ sounds like the kind of thing you should call your doctor about,” Raven mutters, and no one disputes the point.

The guys go to clean off and get dressed while the women deal with filling up the molds, and then they’re separated into couples for interviews. Clarke and Bellamy get Miller, as usual, and Clarke’s going to miss him too. But he and Bellamy are probably going to stay in touch. Bellamy’s surprisingly good at holding on to people, considering how much he likes to act like a lone-wolf curmudgeon.

“How are you feeling going into the games?” Miller asks.

Bellamy glances at Clarke, and she rolls her eyes. “Do you not know? Do you need me to tell you?”

“I’m feeling okay,” he says. “The armor is cool but that’s basically canceled out by making a plaster cast of my dick on TV, so yeah. Pretty much on neutral right now.”

“You’re not nervous?”

He shifts a little. “I guess I should be? I don’t know. It’s so hard to predict what we’re going to do, it’s hard to get nervous. I might suck at it, I might be great. I’m mostly just ready for whatever they’re going to throw at us. Again, there’s no way it’s worse than dick statues.”

“Is this a size thing?" Miller asks. "Are you worried people are going to see your dick and be like, man, his dick sucks?”

“I don’t have to be insecure about my dick to not want Clarke to wear a plaster mold of it around her neck.”

“Is that what I’m doing with it? I was going to use it as a jewelry stand.”

“I’m glad you already have a plan for what you want to do with my dick statue. Can you even show them on TV?" he adds, turning his attention back to the camera. "Isn’t that pornographic?”

Miller shrugs. “Don’t ask me, I’m not standards and practices. I just film it, someone else figures out what to do with it.”

“I’m really looking forward to your penis statue,” Clarke says, patting Bellamy’s arm. “And you have absolutely nothing to worry about in the, uh—it’s going to be very nice.”

He snorts. “Thanks. Glad you’re confident about my ability to stick my dick in a flower pot.”

“More confident that your dick is awesome. And my opinion is the one that counts, right?”

“It is,” he admits, his smiling turning more genuine. “So let’s win the games, take my dick statue home, and put all your jewelry on it.”

“Deal,” says Clarke, and they bump fists and blow it up. “That was good, right? You can use that.”

Miller just shakes his head with a fond smile. “Yeah, that was gold.”

*

“So, how do we do this?”

Ilian’s the one to ask, but they’re all thinking it, staring at the line of flower pots and waiting for someone else to move.

“I mean, you pretty much just pull it out,” says Murphy, and immediately adds, “That’s what she said.”

“If all she wants you to do is pull out, you’re probably doing something wrong,” says Clarke.

“Does everyone want to go first and you’re all being polite?” Roan asks. “Or am I the only one?”

“You’re definitely the only one,” says Bellamy. “Go ahead.”

“With pleasure.”

Clarke’s seen plenty of dicks, both real and manufactured, but there is something undeniably weird about seeing a copy of an actual person’s actual dick, especially a person she’s not dating and never wants to date. And of course she has seen Roan’s dick before--they all have--but for some reason it actually feels weirder to see a replica of it.

She’s learning a lot of things she didn’t really need to know about her feelings on dick sculpture.

“I feel like Arthur,” Roan says. “Pulling the sword from the stone.”

"This doesn't make you king of anything," Raven says. "Just get it over with."

There isn’t really a lot of surprise with Roan’s reveal. He’s got a nice, decently large dick, but they knew that already. The most shocking thing is how accurate the mold seems, how similar it is to seeing Roan’s real junk.

“Do we need a side-by-side comparison?” Roan asks. “I’d be more than willing to—“

“Briefs stay on,” says Raven. “Who’s next?”

They play rock, paper, scissors for it, and Ilian loses. He unsheathes his own masterpiece, which is more modest than Roan’s, but everyone cheers and whistles, and he doesn’t seem _that_ embarrassed.

Bellamy and Dax go again, and Bellamy loses. His is as expected—not to be that person, but Clarke definitely thinks it’s bigger than Roan’s—and he gets his own round of applause, which he accepts with the best grace he can muster.

Dax goes up last and pulls his out with a kind of defiant pride. His is definitely the smallest of any of them, and, again, Clarke doesn’t _want_ to care, but it’s kind of hard to avoid. Society has told her that this matters.

Murphy’s the one to say, “Whomp whomp,” which starts Ontari laughing, and everyone else follows suit, but it's at least more relieved than derisive. Dax accepts his cheers and catcalls, and they’re all carted off for one last quick interview before lunch.

“Still want to use it for jewelry?” Miller asks.

Clarke examines the fascinum thoughtfully, turning it over in her hands. It’s pretty lightweight and honestly kind of hilarious, as objects to own go. 

“Maybe we should display it,” she muses.

“No,” says Bellamy. 

“Come on, we could find somewhere nice for it! Mount it on the wall.”

“You remember how your mom likes to drop by with stuff she thinks we need? She’s going to walk in one day and see my dick on the wall and I’ll just die.”

“You know she’s probably going to watch this show, right?”

All the blood drains out of his face. “Fuck, your mom’s going to see my dick.”

“It’s a great dick. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“You think yours or Roan’s is bigger?” Miller asks.

“Dude, you’re not getting me into a dick measuring contest on camera.”

Clarke gives it a beat and says, “Bellamy’s, no question.”

“I hate you,” he says, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

Clarke scratches his head, affectionate. “I know.”

Lunch is a much more fun affair than she was expecting. The fascinum broke whatever tension there might have been about the impending games, so it’s all laughing and teasing and good-natured speculation about what they're going to do.

It's an early meal, presumably so they have plenty of time for the challenges, and everyone gets dressed up in their best after. The guys put on their armor, the girls put on dresses, and Murphy collects them to lead them to the colosseum. 

"Is the emperor going to be there?" Raven asks.

"They're his games, obviously he's going to be there."

“Is he actually a big deal, or are we just pretending?”

“He’s your emperor, he’s the biggest deal.”

Clarke takes this to mean that he is, like Murphy and Lincoln, a largely unknown actor who they’ll have to pretend is real, legitimate person. Which is fine, but if he’s just in one episode, Clarke would have been down for some stunt-casting.

The colosseum is back to its former glory, scrubbed clean and bright, with no sign of the labyrinth at all. It looks beautiful, and she has to admit they did a good job with the whole thing. It really is _cool_.

“Okay, we’re doing the goodbyes here,” says Murphy, by the entrance. “Girls are going to the stands, so whatever you want to say, say it now.”

He steps back to give them some privacy, although the cameras move closer. This is the content they live for.

Bellamy smiles at her. “So, this is it.”

“This is it. You're going to be great."

“I’ll do my best.” He wets his lips. “No matter what happens, this has been—fuck, I’m so glad we did this.”

“Me too. But I’ll be even happier if you win, so—“

He laughs. “So I’ll see what I can do.”

She cups his face to kiss him. “I love you. Good luck.”

“I love you too.”

Anya makes them do another kiss, more dramatic, for the camera, and then they do split up. The stands of the colosseum are actually full for once, all of the extras from the rest of the series filling up the stands. It makes sense, now, that the last challenge was how it was. It had needed to be tense and quiet and strange, but this really does feel more like a game. It's supposed to be fun.

It might even _be_ fun, assuming the nerves don't kick in.

Lincoln lines the guys up in the arena itself, in front of what must be the emperor’s box. Anya inspects them all, professional as always, and once she’s satisfied, she nods.

“Okay,” says Monroe. “Stand for the emperor. Remember, this man holds your boyfriend’s lives in his hands."

It’s a little overdramatic, but Clarke actually is curious about him. She’s never been sure if he’s actually involved in any of the eliminations, if they’ve been filming Murphy and Lincoln consulting with someone, or if “the emperor” has always been a euphemism for the producers.

“He’s also the most important man in the empire,” Monroe adds. “So show him some respect.”

There’s actual fanfare, and then Murphy comes out, followed by—

“Oh shit,” Clarke breathes.

Despite growing up in LA, Clarke doesn’t know a lot of celebrities. Her dad was involved in the industry, but he died when she was young, and he wasn’t an actor himself, so it wasn’t like he was famous or anything. He did prop work, and he was good at it and well liked, but he didn’t tend to be memorable. After he died, her mother didn’t really keep in touch with anyone, so Clarke didn't keep up with them either.

Thelonious Jaha is the exception to that generalization. He’s an actor, albeit not a super star, and he was close to both her parents and to Clarke. He’s her _godfather_ , even. They see each other at all major holidays, and he still sends her $100 on every birthday.

And he is, apparently, the emperor. Which means that either the producers already know she and Bellamy aren’t—or weren’t—really dating, or they’re about to find out. Thelonious knows they’re not together, and unlike Lincoln, he doesn’t know that he shouldn't tell anyone that.

“Why do I recognize that guy?” Raven asks.

“He was on _Private Vector_ ,” says Clarke, feeling as if her voice is coming out from a great distance. “It was this cop show in the nineties.”

“Oh yeah. Man, what kind of budget did you guys have?” 

“He’s not a big get.” Monroe turns her attention to Clarke, deliberate. “He had some very nice things to say about you and Bellamy.”

The rest of the group looks at Clarke too, and she wets her lips. “I bet. My dad used to work on his show, they were good friends. He’s actually my godfather.”

“So it’s really going to be weird pretending he’s the biggest deal ever, right?”

“Definitely.” She leans against the railing, trying to get her racing pulse under control. If they know now, they must have known the whole time. This isn’t some revelation that came across earlier today. And maybe Thelonious wasn’t sure. Maybe he said they hadn’t been dating the last time he saw them, but they could have started.

The last time they saw him was Christmas; according to their timeline, they _should_ have been dating then.

She catches Bellamy’s eye, just for a second. It's also possible they were waiting for this, for the drama of having the emperor himself reveal that one of the gladiators has been lying.

He shrugs one shoulder, and Clarke exhales. There’s nothing they can do, at this point. Just wait to see what happens.

“As soon as the emperor sits, you start cheering,” says Monroe. “He’ll hold up his hand when he wants silence.”

With some effort, Clarke forces her brain back into TV mode. She claps and cheers and waits for Thelonious to raise his hand, and then she falls silent with the rest of them.

“Friends, Bromans, countrymen,” he says, with great dignity. Personal concerns aside, Clarke has to admit he’s the perfect man for the job. He can say anything and make it sound both reasonable and important. “I welcome you to my games. Today, four warriors stand before you, vying for my favor. But only one can transcend his station and become the ultimate Broman. Men!”

The gladiators have obviously been coached; they reply in unison. “Yes, emperor!”

“Are you prepared?”

“Yes, emperor!”

He nods. “Then let the games begin!”

Monroe fills them in on the first challenge--the sticks and blindfolds one again--while the guys get ready. They immediately lose the armor, which is kind of hilarious, but the sparkly gold briefs probably offer a better range of movement. It's not as if they really need to be fully kitted out for battle, and Bellamy will still enjoy _having_ the armor.

He and Dax will be going first, and Clarke's actually feeling good about it; this is one of Bellamy’s better challenges, and all he needs is one win to move forward. If he does go down, he’ll have another chance to beat Roan or Ilian.

He doesn’t need it, though; Bellamy wins quickly, using the same strategy he did before, just with more speed and confidence. It honestly isn't even close.

Lincoln holds up his arm. “The winner and first to round two: Bellamy!”

The crowd roars, and Clarke roars along with them. Bellamy goes to stand by his banner, and Roan and Ilian get themselves ready for the next round.

This one takes longer. Ilian is careful and cautious, taking no risks, while Roan does his best to seek him out. For the most part, Clarke hasn’t been able to tell that the bells make much difference, but this time she can actually see Ilian hearing him, see the way he calculates where he should go.

“I picked wrong,” Raven mutters, just as the first blow lands, and Clarke doesn’t think it’s as clear cut as all that, but Ilian _does_ win, pushing Roan out of the arena after only a few moments of pitched battle.

Lincoln steps in. “Our second gladiator into round two: Ilian!”

Ilian looks a little dazed as he joins Bellamy, and Clarke can't blame him. She thinks they all had him pegged as the first to go home, himself included, and having either Roan or Dax out in the first round requires a major readjustment for all of them.

“He can probably beat Dax,” Clarke tells Raven, and Raven shrugs.

"I thought he could beat Ilian too."

There isn't anything to say to that, so she just puts her arm around Raven's shoulders and squeezes, and Raven leans back against her.

"It's so fucking stupid," she says. "I know it's not a big deal. But I don't want him to go out yet."

It feels wrong to Clarke, too, that Roan could lose here. The producers haven't directly interfered in any of the challenges so far, not that Clarke's seen, and even if they tried to, Roan probably wouldn't have it. But if the final two _aren't_ Roan and Bellamy, it's going to feel like such a waste.

In the arena, Roan and Dax take opposite sides of the ring, and Lincoln tells them to begin. Neither is that aggressive this time, not wanting to go out for some stupid error. To Clarke's surprise and delight, Roan adopts Bellamy's strategy of keeping track of the edge of the field, making sure he never steps out. Dax is trying it too, but he's worse at it, and when they finally meet, it's another quick victory. Roan is relentless and motivated, and Dax's confidence is lacking. He steps out without Roan even having to hit him, and Lincoln jumps on it.

"Our final gladiator in the second round: Roan!"

There's cheering from the crowd, and from Bellamy and Ilian too. As soon as Roan joins them on the podium, they pull him into a hug, and the three of them wait arm-in-arm for the next challenge.

It's a similar scene in the stands, with Clarke and Raven and Gaia holding onto each other. Some distant part of her does feel bad for Ontari, but if it was her boyfriend who had lost, she knows the others would be celebrating without her. And after a second, they do pull apart, giving their condolences to Ontari and sending her on her way with genuine well wishes. It always sucks to lose people, but someone had to be the first to go, and Clarke is glad it's Dax. It never quite felt to her like he should be back in the first place.

This feels better. This is the final three they deserve.

"Gladiators!" says Lincoln. "Are you ready for your second challenge?"

They chorus their agreement, and he nods. "Follow me."

They move to a different part of the colosseum, and Lincoln explains the rules to the guys while Monroe fills them in up in the stands. It's another sand bag challenge, of course, but not one involving the cesspit. This time, they have to get three sandbags from one end of the field to their podiums on the other side, with the added twist that not only are there only eight bags to go around, but the last two are buried.

As usual, she's pretty sure it's supposed to result in a lot of fighting, but instead it's mostly a fairly straightforward race. Bellamy's faster on the ground than he is in the water, but so is everyone else. They're pretty much neck-in-neck going into the buried sandbag portion of the show, and Clarke's actually on the edge of her seat. She wants this for Bellamy, wants it desperately, but there’s nothing she can do but hope.

He finds the first bag, but she’s the only one who notices. He gives no sign, doesn’t say a word, bides his time until Roan finds the second and Ilian goes for him. Only then does he snatch the bag and run, taking advantage of their distraction to go without either of them even trying to catch up.

He makes it first, and Roan breaks away from Ilian with the second, and that’s it. The final two, fair and square, just like Clarke knew they would be. Just like she’s always wanted.

“There we go,” says Raven.

Clarke has to smile. “This is it.” 

*

“Each gladiator has a cuff on his ankle!” Lincoln announces, playing to the stands for the first time. He has Roan and Bellamy on opposite sides of the field, stretching and getting ready. “The rules are simple: get your opponent’s cuff, take it to your own podium, and ring the bell. The first to do this is the champion.”

“Huh,” says Raven.

It’s just the two of them in the girlfriend seating now, which is nice. She doesn't have to feel bad for liking Raven better than the others. 

“I guess last challenge was supposed to prep them for this.”

“But then Jasper decided he was going to save everyone, and no one else had to worry about it.”

Clarke nods. “It’s still more interesting than a straight fight.”

“Come on, Bellamy and Roan? That’s not a _straight_ fight.”

Despite her nervousness, Clarke does laugh. “Okay, yeah. Queer fight. But there’s some strategy.”

“Yeah. Honestly I have no idea. But if Roan’s going to lose to anyone, I want it to be Bellamy.”

“I just want Bellamy to win,” Clarke teases, and Raven rolls her eyes.

“See if I ever try to be the bigger person again.”

Anya finishes whatever setup she needed to finish, and Murphy leans into Thelonious to say something. They’ve been chatting throughout the games, and Clarke’s honestly really looking forward to seeing what that dynamic looks like on the show. It’s definitely going to be weird.

Thelonious stands. “Gladiators, are you ready?”

“Yes, emperor!” they say together, and Bellamy adds, “Morituri te salutant.”

“I’m definitely going to marry him,” Clarke says, without thinking.

Raven just pats her shoulder. “I know you are.”

“You’re not going to die, drama queen!” Murphy calls, and then adds, “Sorry, emperor. Go on.”

“Thank you,” says Thelonious, dry. “Gladiators! Begin!”

They don’t actually start right away—there’s prep work to do, as always—but it doesn’t take long. And as soon as Lincoln gives the okay they’re off, running toward each other at full tilt. It’s not as if there’s any strategic advantage to putting it off—they can’t win without getting each other’s cuffs—and Clarke assumes Bellamy’s as ready for this all to be over as she is.

They grapple hard, but it’s not as violent as it could be. The cuffs serve as a focal point, a reason to avoid senseless aggression. Beating the enemy to a pulp is an option, but it’s more difficult than just untying the cuff and getting away with it.

Clarke’s not sure what to expect from Bellamy, and his early performance doesn’t really fill her with confidence. Roan is aggressive and Bellamy is defensive, which at least means he’s not being stupid or reckless, but his cuff is half untied and he still hasn’t even touched Roan’s.

Luckily, that’s when Raven figures out his strategy. “Bellamy’s got this.”

“He does?”

“Roan’s too focused on the cuff, which he doesn’t even have yet. But look where they _are_.”

Clarke had been focusing on the cuff too, but she understands as soon as Raven says it: Bellamy’s been leading Roan. They’re most of the way to Bellamy’s podium; Roan has almost the whole field to cross if he gets Bellamy’s cuff, and Bellamy only has to make it a few feet.

Clarke’s heart leaps into her throat. “Holy shit.”

“Playing smart,” says Raven.

“He still has to get the cuff off.”

Bellamy knows that too, and it’s apparently time for him to start fighting back. He’s still not great in one-on-one, but both of them struggle with both protecting their legs and getting the cuff of their opponent, so he’s not alone. Bellamy sacrifices his cuff to Roan, but refuses to let go, and once he’s claimed Roan’s cuff for himself and disengaged, Roan figures out what happened.

He does his best to slow Bellamy down, but Bellamy is too close to his goal. Clarke finds herself leaning forward, screaming her lungs out as he trips up to his podium and rings the bell, bright and clear even over the roar of the crowd.

And just like that, it’s done.

She barely has time to think before Monroe is at her arm. “Come on, we need you down on the ground to congratulate him. Anya wants a big kiss, maybe some tears. However much emotion you’re feeling, triple it.”

As she’s being pulled away, she turns back, catches Raven’s eye. The disappointment is written all over her face, and she doesn’t try to hide it, even when she smiles.

“Tell him congrats,” she says, but that’s all the time they have.

The rush seems unnecessary, once she gets there. They’re still busy getting enough shots of Bellamy on his own and with Lincoln, and one of the makeup girls, Harper, is arranging a laurel crown in his hair. 

Luna has to double check Clarke’s hair and makeup too, and then Monroe finally tells her she can go. It’s not hard to get carried away with it, to run across the sand and throw herself in his arms, not kissing him yet but just holding on. His skin is warm from the sun, coarse from the sand, and he smells like sweat and heat.

“Hi,” he murmurs, laughing, and she pulls back for the kiss, long and deep and joyful.

“What do you say to a gladiator who’s just won?” she asks, grinning at him.

“ _Congratulations_ works.”

“That was awesome.”

“I really wanted to win for you.”

“Appreciated.” She kisses him again. “I think we might have some things to explain to the emperor.”

“I wonder if they would have just let it go if I lost.”

“It’s not as good a story if you lose, yeah.”

He grins, the kind of grin she so rarely sees, bright and white, dazzling and unrestrained. “It’s pretty great now, though.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees. “Perfect.”

*

“Bellamy Blake,” says Thelonious. Clarke had never imagined him in a toga, but it kind of works on him. “Our champion.”

Bellamy is wearing his armor again, looking surprisingly badass, all things considered. Clarke’s in a red dress with her hair up in a braided crown, like they’d dress for the banishment ceremony, if there was one.

But this is a celebration.

Bellamy drops to one knee. “Emperor.”

“I congratulate you on your victory. But I have questions.”

Bellamy nods. Anya coached him through this, although she didn’t tell him what he’d be asked. It wasn’t hard to guess, of course; they’ve both been waiting for it ever since they saw Thelonious there.

“You were told to bring your partner with you to the games. Did you do that?”

“I did.”

“I would remind you I am your emperor,” says Thelonious. “I would not lie.”

“I’m not lying,” says Bellamy. “She is my partner. She always has been. She wasn’t my girlfriend,” he admits. “We did lie about that. But she is now.”

“Clarke,” says Thelonious, turning his attention to her. “Is that true?”

It bears a striking resemblance to a conversation they had last Thanksgiving, although that time they were telling him that they _weren’t_ together.

“It is,” she says. “We knew he needed a girlfriend to compete, and I said I’d do it. But over the last weeks—“ She shrugs, a little uncomfortable. “He was always my best friend, and I’ve always loved him. But this made me realize he’s the one for me. It hasn’t been a lie for a while.”

Thelonious nods. “I look forward to discussing this development with your mother,” he says, without breaking character, and she and Bellamy both wince. They’re going to have to do the weirdest damage control ever before this airs. “Bellamy,” he continues. “Please stand.” He does, and Thelonious does too. “I congratulate you on your victory, and I am proud to grant you your citizenship. You leave today a full Broman!”

The crowd is gone, but the crew makes enough noise that it seems like they have an audience. Bellamy flushes, but bows, and Clarke does too. It’s weird and kind of awkward, but she honestly _is_ proud of him.

She’s expecting to have to explain to Thelonious now, but he just gives them both hugs and says, “We’ll have to talk later.”

It’s a little threatening, but Clarke will admit they probably (definitely) deserve it; if you’re going to lie about your relationship on TV, it’s a good idea to make sure no one’s going to call you out on it.

Still, it’s hard to worry about explaining to him, largely because Anya immediately says, “We have a lot of interviews to catch up on,” and it’s so much easier to worry about that.

But it’s actually fairly straightforward, albeit kind of surreal. Anya wants one-on-one commentary on how their relationship progressed, so they’ll be able to put talking heads in throughout the season and make the will-they/won’t-they a part of the actual program. It feels a little dishonest to Clarke, even though this was actually happening, and there’s this weird knowledge that their actual, completely organic and secret love story is now going to come across as one of a thousand reality TV fabrications, but she can live with that.

It’s _their_ story, after all. No one else needs to know all of it.

The camera person, a guy she doesn’t know that well who introduces himself as Sinclair, is the one to interview her, with an assist from Monroe. He walks her through the timeline of the show, like they did after the labyrinth, but this time the focus is solely on Bellamy, having her remember how hot he was naked when they first arrived, how awkward it was to sleep with him. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s already difficult putting herself back in the mindset of someone who didn’t know how she felt about Bellamy, or how he felt about her, which will probably just make it seem faker.

It’s their own fault for not telling them they knew until the last day, really.

“Why didn’t you do this when it was happening?” she asks Monroe, who’s sitting off to the side playing on her phone.

“We wanted to see how it turned out,” she says, with a shrug. “It might not have been a good story.”

“I thought reality TV was all about creating your own narrative.”

Monroe just rolls her eyes. “We’re not that good at reality TV.”

It’s hard to not agree with her, if Clarke is honest. They do seem really bad at this.

She finishes up her fake retrospective of falling in love with Bellamy and heads to craft services to grab dinner while she waits for Bellamy. They have paperwork to sign and non-disclosure agreements to review, and once they’re finally done, a driver is back to take them to a hotel before their flight in the morning, and it’s such a weird anticlimax.

Victory, the fake history of their fake relationship, and paperwork seems like the wrong order to do things in. 

She drops her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“We’ll see them again.” He kisses her hair. “That wasn’t too bad, right?”

“Which part?”

“Everything. The whole show.”

She leans up to catch his mouth for a real kiss. They’re not quite _private_ yet, but it’s close, and getting closer. Soon, it’s just going to be the two of them, and Clarke honestly can’t wait.

It’s a brand new world, and she already loves it.

“Yeah,” she says. “That was pretty great.”


	10. Reunion Special

“So, how awkward is this going to be?”

Clarke doesn’t look away from the mirror, but Bellamy wasn’t really expecting her to. Makeup is largely a mystery to him, but he understands that she likes wearing it and wants it to look good, which requires her full attention. He supports that.

“Which part? The strangers or the friends?”

“ _Friends_ is a strong word,” he grumbles.

“We’re going to their wedding, obviously we’re friends.”

He meets her eyes in the mirror and glares. “Thanks, I feel better.”

She finishes up and comes to sit next to him on the bed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Are you really worried?”

“We haven’t talked to them much since the show aired. We don’t know what they thought.”

Clarke bites the corner of her mouth. “And you’re worried about that?”

“You aren’t?”

“I don’t know.” She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I’m mostly excited? I liked pretty much everyone, I’m looking forward to seeing them again. And after, we get to go to Italy.”

That draws a smile out of him. It’s not like she’s wrong, of course. They’d been a little surprised to get the save the date for Jasper and Maya’s wedding, but they probably shouldn’t have been. They didn’t get invited to Roan and Raven’s, but no one did. They got married with in some hot spring, naked, because that’s who they are. The pictures of the event were graphic enough that they got Roan banned from Instagram, so Bellamy’s officially position is that he’s happy for them and also very glad he didn’t have to be there. They got drinks to celebrate after, and that was nice.

And this should be good too. Just because it’s their first time seeing everyone except Roan and Raven since filming ended, that’s no reason to be nervous. Jasper didn’t even invite the whole cast, so it’s not like this was some courtesy thing. They want him and Clarke to be there, and he’s happy to go.

At the same time, the show just finished airing a few weeks ago, and the public reaction has been a little weird. He hadn’t really thought much about how it would be, having an actual relationship develop from his fake TV relationship, but that was admittedly largely because he didn't let himself think about Clarke feeling the same way he did before they went. Part of him still can't believe he got up the nerve to say something while he was there, and he's sure if he wasn't in a perpetual state of being worn out and sleep deprived and kind of weirdly overconfident, he wouldn't have managed it.

But he did, and it worked out kind of unbelievably well. He spent a few months in a state of low-key paranoia, waiting for the other shoe to drop and something to go wrong, but somehow nothing ever did. Dating Clarke was exactly as good as he thought it would be, even once they were home again and settling into their lives.

At least until the show actually started airing.

The weirdness isn’t actually between them, which is a plus. After eight months, he and Clarke are as solid as ever. And it's not as if the show was very popular--it's not really the kind of thing that sounds _good_ , even to Bellamy--but they sometimes go on twitter, and it's disconcerting to see people talking about how they were lying about dating, or not dating, or how the whole thing was just manufactured for publicity, or how he only won because of his fake relationship hook. And he doesn't think any of the other contestants think that, not really, but it's a wedding, and all Jasper's friends and family are going to be there, and some of them might be bitter that Bellamy won and Jasper didn't. 

There are all sorts of things that could go wrong, but apparently Clarke's not concerned about any of it. 

Plus, like she said, once they get through this, they _are_ going to Italy. It would be hard for this wedding to be so bad that it ruins his dream vacation with his girlfriend.

"I feel like this is my celebrity debut," he finally says. "These people are going to have opinions about us."

"They will have seen the show. You were pretty popular, Bellamy. I know you found some assholes on twitter, but people are assholes about _everything_ on twitter. You're not special."

"Thanks."

She slides her hand into his hair, rubbing gently. "I get it. We haven't seen most of these people for months, and now they know we lies to them for a while. It’s kind of stressful. But we still hang out with Raven and Roan, and Miller's going to be there, right?"

"Yeah." He wouldn't have expected Jasper to invite one of the random camera guys, but they live in the same area, and Miller somehow ended up hitting it off with Jasper's best friend. He doesn't like talking about feelings, but it's not hard to read between the lines; he's totally gone. 

"So, you like three people at this wedding, not including me. That’s a lot of people, for you.”

He has to smile. “That's true."

“Do you want to skip it?”

“No.” He rubs his face and smiles. “I just don’t want Jasper’s grandfather to get drunk and tell me he was robbed.”

“If we were going to Ilian and Gaia’s wedding, I’d tell you that might happen, but not Jasper’s. He went out a hero, everyone loves him. His relatives are probably happy with his edit.”

“He didn’t go home with ten thousand dollars.”

“Neither did we, after taxes. If you’re that nervous, we can leave before the drinking starts.”

He snorts. “You? Leave before the drinking starts?”

“Only for you.”

“Wow.” It actually _is_ touching, though, so he leans in and kisses her. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful and I love you yet?”

“Nope.”

“You look beautiful and I love you.”

She beams. “You’re no so bad yourself. Ready to go?”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “As I’ll ever be.”

“It’s going to be fun,” Clarke insists. “Come on, _Bromans_ stuff is always fun.”

He’d like to argue, but it remains one of the best experiences of his life against all odds. So he lets Clarke tug him up, leans down for another kiss once she has.

“So we’re going to have fun,” he says, and she smiles.

“That’s the spirit.”

*

Miller’s the first to see them, and he greets Bellamy with, “Hey, it’s the ultimate Broman,” so obviously that’s a great start.

“And his girlfriend,” says Clarke.

Miller gives her a hug. “How could I forget? Hey, Clarke.” He hugs Bellamy too. “Asshole.”

“Fuck you. Where’s your boyfriend? I want to tell him he can do better.”

“He’s the best man, I’m not going to see him for hours. Jasper’s keeping him busy.”

“So you’re just going to hang out with us?” he asks, like this is somehow an upsetting prospect.

“Until Roan shows up. He’s my favorite.”

“He’s everyone’s favorite, yeah.”

According to the website for the wedding, it’s going to be an attempted compromise between what Jasper wants, what Maya wants, and what their parents want, which Bellamy takes to mean that it will be a fucking mess. He’s not sure what Maya wants, but he assumes Jasper's ideal wedding would involve him fighting a bunch of weird monsters and then being told his bride was in another castle. And that seems difficult to really coordinate with anything else.

But the venue looks nice and fairly normal, once they get to it. They’ve got a spot in the park by a lake, and there are rows of seats and blue and purple garlands strung everywhere. It would make a great aspirational Pinterest photo set.

As Miller said, there’s no sign of Roan and Raven yet, but Ilian and Gaia are there and thrilled to see them. There are more hugs around, and Gaia shows off her engagement ring, which they all respond to with appropriate awe. 

“What about you guys?” she asks. “Not engaged yet?”

Clarke smiles. “We’ve only been together for eight months, remember? We’re not in a hurry.”

“Don’t tell me you think you’re going to change your minds,” says Miller.

“You don’t have to get married as soon as you know you want to. There’s no deadline.”

Clarke’s right, of course, but he also knows she’ll say yes whenever he asks. And it’s a little bit possible that his general, background anxiety is a little bit because he’s planning to ask her on this trip. After all, they got together in Brome; it seems appropriate to get engaged in Rome. Romantic.

It's going to be great, even if thinking about it kind of makes him want to throw up

“I still can’t believe you guys were that good at faking it,” Gaia is saying, amused. “Like, I know, but I still forget.”

“We weren’t really faking it,” Clarke says. “Bellamy definitely wasn’t, and I was—figuring it out as I went.”

“Deeply in denial,” he adds, and she laughs.

“That too, yeah.”

“How’s the reaction been for you?” Ilian asks.

“Bellamy keeps going online to look for people being assholes, but everyone we actually know thinks it’s cute. It helps that half of them have been waiting for us to get our acts together for years. I think my friend Wells was most annoyed, and that’s just because his dad played the emperor. So he was mad that Thelonious found out before he did. Even though that wasn’t my fault!”

Bellamy snorts. “Yeah, you really couldn’t have filled him in first.”

“I forgot you knew the emperor. And Legatus, right?”

“Lincoln, yeah. He’s engaged too, actually. Proposed to Bellamy’s sister a few months ago.”

“Well, well, well,” he hears, before anyone can respond. “Look whom we have here.”

“That was a correct use of whom,” Bellamy says, automatic. It hadn’t occurred to him that Murphy might come, but Jasper might have invited him just to troll Bellamy. That sounds like Jasper.

He’s got Roan and Raven with him, which is a plus, and a girl with a very impressive tattoo collection. He’s not sure there’s square inch of undecorated skin anywhere on her body. 

Murphy frowns. “Really? It sounds so wrong.”

“I didn’t make up the rules of grammar. _Whom_ is the object of have. You have us here, not we.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re still dating him?” he adds, to Clarke.

“He’s still hot.”

“Fair enough. Emori, you recognize all the assholes from my show. Assholes, this is my partner, Emori.”

They shake hands, and then Roan and Raven get hugs, even though they hung out a couple weeks ago. It’s a wedding; hugs are expected.

“When are you guys leaving for your trip again?” Raven asks.

“Tomorrow morning,” says Clarke.

The rest of the group wants details of that, of course, and Clarke knows their itinerary by heart because that’s who she is, so reviewing that gets them through to people starting to be seated.

They haven’t divided it into bride and groom sides, just let everyone fend for themselves, which is just as well—Bellamy has no idea how they’d pick, other than dividing up by gender like on the show, which he was just as glad to be done with. With nine of them, they take up most of a row all by themselves, with Roan on the end as the most sociable of them. 

"I'm amazed you got him in a suit," Clarke remarks to Raven, watching as Roan effortlessly charms the lady who sat down next to them.

Raven snorts. "He loves suits almost as much as he loves being naked. If he's going to dress, he wants to dress to impress."

"I really don't get anything about him."

"And I don't get Bellamy's whole deal," says Raven, which Bellamy doesn't think is completely fair. However weird his deal might be, it's not really comparable to _Roan_. Roan is on another level. But she adds, "If you understood exactly why I was in love with my husband, you'd want to marry him too, and that would be a pain," and that does make sense.

"Yeah, I'm good with my weird nerd," Clarke agrees, giving Bellamy's hand a squeeze. "I'll keep him."

The ceremony is short and sweet. Maya looks beautiful, radiant with happiness, and Jasper looks like a stiff wind might blow him over. Miller's boyfriend must be thinking the same thing, because he's standing close, as if he's ready to catch him and prop him up as necessary.

But of course, he makes it through. His vows seem to be about ninety percent geeky references, even if Bellamy doesn't get all of them, and Maya's follow suit, so even if the ceremony doesn't look like he expected, it still feels like them. 

And that's it. It's hard not to compare this to what he might want himself--weddings are obviously on his mind right now--and it does seem like a pretty good way to do it. A quick ceremony and a big party feels like something he and Clarke could handle; she definitely wants to be married as soon as possible and getting drunk.

It's still a staggering thing, to know with such certainty. Clarke wants to _marry him_. A year ago, he's not sure he could have believed it. Sometimes, he still struggles.

"Party time?" she asks, and he leans down to kiss her.

"Yeah, let's do it."

*

Despite his paranoia, the reception is great. Monty's as awesome as Bellamy knew he would be, and it's nice to be reunited with his favorite people from the show. It's their first time actually hanging out with Murphy as himself, instead of in his weird TV persona, but it really isn't that different. In fact, it's exactly the same, except that he never has to break up his snark and dickery with ostensible job responsibilities. 

They don't see that much of Jasper and Maya, since they're busy with all of the other guests, but they manage hugs and congratulations and after Bellamy even manages to grab Maya for a dance. He wouldn't say they were that close on set, but he likes her, cares for her in the absent, easy way he can care for every girl who reminds him even a little of his sister. And watching the actual show, seeing moments with her that he missed, made her fonder of him. She's one of his favorites.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," he says. "It even felt like you guys."

She laughs. "We did agree to everything. It's a wedding, even Jasper takes that seriously. He wanted it to be good."

"It was."

"What about you?" she asks, cocking her head. "You and Clarke aren't engaged yet, are you?"

"Not yet. I'm going to ask her," he admits, saying it out loud for the first time. "While we're on vacation."

"Congratulations."

"She hasn't said yes yet."

Her fondly unimpressed expression definitely reminds him of his sister. "She's going to say yes, Bellamy."

"I know." The music winds down, and he leans in to peck her cheek. "Congratulations to you too. I'm really happy for you guys."

"Thanks. I'm happy for us too."

He passes her on to the next person, lets him whirl her away for another dance while he makes his way back to Clarke. She's chatting with Murphy's partner, but she leans into him when he slides his arm around her, and Emori takes off to get another drink not long after.

"Do you think we can leave soon?" he asks.

"You're having that bad a time?"

"No, it's fine. But we have an early start, and the longer we stay, the more likely it is that something goes wrong. So if we leave now--"

"Pessimist. Everyone's been really nice, so far. I don't think anyone is going to start yelling about how Dax was robbed or anything. And they definitely all think we're adorable."

"We are adorable. But I do want to get to sleep early."

"Everything okay?"

He leans in, nosing her hair. It's getting dark, but there's no sign of things slowing down any time soon. There's some part of him that feels distant from it all, separate in a way he can't explain, and he's happy but it's almost too much, his heart aching strangely.

He's happy for them, and happy _generally_ , but he doesn't know how to be here.

"One more dance," she says. "You and me. And then we say goodbye and head out. We have an excuse."

He leans down for a kiss. "Deal."

They have to wait a couple more songs for one Clarke wants to dance to, but it's not bad. They chat with Miller about what projects he's working on next, and Monty about his tech job, and watch Roan slowly losing pieces of his suit when he hopes no one will notice.

He hopes they'll all make it to his wedding, and that's a nice thought too. It's possible they really did make friends for life, against all odds.

Clarke drags him to the dance floor for a song he doesn't know. It's not the first time they've danced together, but it's the first time since they started dating, and possibly the first time since college. It takes a second to figure out how to fit her in his arms, but once he does, she cuddles in, and it's perfect.

"I'm glad we didn't miss this," he admits.

"Even if you're done?"

"It's more than I was expecting."

"That's how all the _Bromans_ stuff is. We think its going to be silly and kind of stupid, and then instead it's life-changing and we're totally emotionally invested."

"Yeah." He lets his eyes drift shut, resting his cheek against her hair and breathing her in. "I can't believe it actually worked out."

"Still waiting for something to go wrong?"

"Always."

"Dork."

"Yeah, everyone seems to agree about that one."

"Everyone also agrees you're hot and amazing and the star of the show, you could try focusing on that instead."

"The hottest dork," he grants, and she rests her head against his chest as they finish the dance.

Once they're done, she doesn't try to convince him to stay. They find the people they need to say goodbye to, explain easily that they have an early start tomorrow and want to get some sleep. There are hugs and wishes of a safe trip, and they even manage to congratulate the bride and groom one more time before they get swept up in other responsibilities.

They grab a cab back to the hotel, and the oddly melancholy feeling never quite leaves his chest. It feels like a conclusion, somehow, even though it's not. Even though the real conclusion was a long time ago, and even though they'll see these people again, there’s some odd weight to this, the last hurrah of the TV show. Everything's out in the open, everyone knows he won and he and Clarke lied, and this is how it's going to be, from now on.

It's not a bad future, but there is something a little sad about closure, even good closure. Like Clarke said, _Bromans_ actually was one of the best experiences of his life, and he feels like they're fully leaving it behind.

Back at the hotel, Clarke ducks into the bathroom to undo her elaborate hairstyle, while Bellamy just strips out of his suit and flops onto his back on the giant bed. Clarke joins him as soon as she's done, rolling into his side. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I really am still waiting for the other shoe to drop," he admits. "I don't think being on a reality TV show has ever worked out this well for anyone, it shouldn't work out for me."

"At least one person got successful off of _Project Runway_." She pokes his ribs. "And you're not the only person _this_ worked out for. My life is awesome too. It's weird, but--what's going to happen? You won fair and square, and even if you didn't, it's a reality TV show. They could have rigged it."

"I know." He exhales a long breath. "Maybe my life is just awesome for a while."

"Anything but that,” she says, but her tone is contemplative. “Somehow, appearing on a reality TV show was actually good for us. We can just accept that. I promise something else will go wrong later and you can stress about that."

"Oh good," he says, with a soft huff of laughter.

"Are you really okay?"

"I think so. Still nervous." He swallows hard, tugs her closer. "I'm going to ask you to marry me. In Italy. I’ve got a whole thing planned."

She presses her lips against the skin over his heart. "Okay,” she says, easy. “I'm going to say yes.” And five days later, she does.

As happy endings go, it’s a good one. And he can’t wait for what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're done! thanks for reading, friends


End file.
